Lost
by kmf
Summary: Legolas could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times in his life he had truly been shocked speechless. Seeing Melissa standing in the middle of the stream pointing her finger at him increased that count by one. Not a Mary-Sue!
1. Chapter 1

_My first venture into Lord of the Rings fanfics, so please be gentle with me and forgive any mistakes I make. Whilst this may look like a dreaded MarySue, please be assured it is not. Yes, the female character is an OC; no she is not a MarySue (or at least how I understand them to be). There is no pairing as yet with this fanfic; it is a work in progress. The title is also subject to change ;)_

**Lost** by kmf

Rating: PG13 (possibly subject to change in later chapters)

Chapter One

It had been a particularly horrible day for Melissa. Most of her days had been horrible that year, and the year before for that matter, but today had been particularly stressful. She sighed as she entered the bathroom in the cold, lonely house she lived in, and stared at her image in the mirror.

"You knew you shouldn't have got up this morning," she hissed to her self. "But you never listen.."

Tears began to flood her eyes, and she blinked rapidly trying to swallow them back into her before they spilled over onto her cheeks. She frowned at herself trying to think of anything other than what had happened that day two years before.

Two years already.

Seven hundred and thirty numb days.

Seventeen Thousand, five hundred and twenty agonising hours.

She frowned at herself again, looking at the grim lines that seemed to be permanently etched into her forehead and around her mouth.

"Don't think about it," she whispered, running her hands through her short brown hair, making it stand straight on end giving her a wild angry look "Focus on now!"

And she did, and found the tears beginning to well up again.

Today, on the anniversary of the day her heart had been broken, her contract had been terminated due to an overspent budget. Her employer had been sorry, but it had been one of her conditions of employment that either party could suspend the contract without notice. She had just stood and nodded to him, before returning to her desk, quickly calculating hours worked in the last two weeks and raised an invoice. Then saying a quick farewell to her co-workers, who all looked both thankful it wasn't them that had lost their jobs, and worried that it could be tomorrow, she had taken a train back home.

Home. Her home. But for how much longer? Her pay had covered the mortgage and bills, but had left precious else for her to save. She had enough in her bank account for two more mortgage payments and then, if she didn't find another job, she was going to lose her house. And then what?

Melissa sighed and turned away from the mirror, gazing around the crisp white bathroom.

"Who cares?" she asked herself quietly, listening to her voice echo around the room. She hugged her arms around her self and shut her eyes.

Breathing deeply she tried to calm herself. This was nothing. She could survive this. If she had survived the day her heart had died, she could survive this. She just needed to formulate a plan. She had to call people; family, friends, contacts, old work colleagues. Someone might know of an opening somewhere.

"But you don't have family," she whispered to herself. "Not anymore."

Her eyes opened and she once again glared at herself in the mirror.

"Shut up!" she hissed, and stomped out of the room down to the kitchen.

Quickly grabbing a white wineglass, one of the elegant crystal set she and Paul had been given for their wedding, she opened her fridge and took out a half empty bottle of Chardonnay. Filling the glass, she gulped the contents down quickly before filling it again. Frowning at the now empty bottle, she put it into the recycling box, before glaring at her telephone.

As if she invoked it, the phone began to ring. The sudden shrill noise made her jump, white wine sloshing up over her hand. Walking up to the phone, she swapped the glass over to her other hand, absently licking her fingers while she listened to her recorded voice on the answer phone.

"I'm sorry, I'm not here right now. Please leave a message after the tone and I will try to get back to you."

Melissa grimaced at her voice; stilted and emotionless, hating the sound and her accent. After the beep, there was a moment of hesitation before she heard his voice, quiet and measured.

"Melissa? It's me. Paul."

There was another pause and she could imagine Paul frowning on the other end of the connection, wondering if she was going to pick up and talk to him. After another moment, he spoke again.

"Are you ok?" he asked before hesitating again. "Call me, ok?"

Melissa listened to the faint click of him hanging up, then the dial tone before her answer phone disconnected. The red light of message waiting blinked at her.

So he remembered. He probably had it in his electronic diary to prompt his memory of the event, especially after he forgot last year. She was still angry that the moment that had changed her whole world had made so little impact on him that he had forgotten, only to be reminded by her in an outraged rant.

Grabbing her glass, she stalked up the stairs to her bathroom again, and bent down to run a bath. A bath would soothe her, a bath full of deliciously scented bubbles. A conditioning hair treatment, together with a face mask would distract her. It would take her forward another hour. Another bottle of wine would see her through the long dark hours of night. And tomorrow?

Melissa squeezed a generous amount of bubble bath into the steaming water and inhaled the relaxing jasmine fumes. She couldn't think of tomorrow. She wouldn't think of tomorrow. Sipping her wine, she waited for the bath to fill, then turned off the water and quickly stripped off her clothes, tossing them into the wash basket. Sprinkling some water in her hair, she applied a generous amount of conditioning treatment, pulling her hair up into hedgehog spikes to make sure that she covered it all. Glaring at her image in the mirror again, she then applied a face mask, green and full of lumpy rolled oat flakes, avoiding her eyes and her mouth.

"Very pretty" she said sarcastically, poking her tongue out at herself, before slipping her body into the still steaming water, wincing a little from the heat before her limbs became adjusted to the heat.

Sighing, she peered down at her belly, gazing at the silvery lines, scars of her pregnancy, before tearing her eyes away and reaching for her wine glass.

"Don't think about it," she murmured to herself, before easing her body fully into the water and using her toe to turn on the hot tap to increase the level of the water. "Never think about it."

And so she didn't. She instead thought of the taste of the wine in her mouth, the heat of the water, the tightening of the facepack as it dried. She thought of the garden that was sorely neglected, though she probably had time to get out there and try and bring it under control now that she had lost her job.

Don't think about that!

She thought about replacing the hall wallpaper, the need for the ceiling plaster in the dining room to be replaced. She thought how the third bedroom still needed to be redecorated and how it had rolls of wallpaper sitting stacked under the window for the last two years all with little pink, yellow and blue teddy bears printed on them.

Don't think about that!

Stifling a little sob she closed her eyes, bit her lip, and pushed all the pain deep, deep down inside so that she could keep breathing, keep existing. And she wished, how she wished that her life could be different.

And then, suddenly, it was.

Instead of being in a comfortably warm bath, in a brightly-lit bathroom, in an average house, in a small town, in a large country, she was suddenly plunged into icy cold water that made her shriek in surprise and fright. Opening her eyes she found that she was in darkness, in water and she floundered in panic, her hand still grasping her empty wineglass.

A hiss of surprise came from beside her as her hands flayed out to grab something, anything until this hallucination passed her by. Her fingertips grasped hot, hard flesh, and in her extreme panic she latched onto this anchor. She screeched again as she felt herself being pushed away, her head dipping below the icy water, her head aching from the sudden sensation of cold. Struggling again to rise to above the murky depths, she managed to take one deep gulp of air before she felt to strong hands on her shoulders pushing her down, fully immersing her in the icy depths again.

Kicking, struggling, she tried to break free but the cold and the shock were too much, the hands were too strong and her desire to live just wasn't there. Lungs burning, limbs aching, her last thought was of her lost child and that how sometimes it really didn't pay to make wishes.

Long had he travelled, exploring with Gimli the secret and rarely wandered delights of Middle Earth. It had taken many years, but they were finally returning to Rivendell, the place that had caused such a dramatic change to his life all those years ago. He had been old in years and yet so young in mind, when he attended that infamous council as representative of the Mirkwood elves. The War of the Rings and the paths he had had to travel to help win that war had aged Legolas.

So much had changed since the one ring had been destroyed. Many old Elven friends had left Middle Earth sailing for the Undying Lands. Many old mortal friends had died. But so it always was. A mortal's life burnt fast and bright, over it seemed sometimes before it had even began. It amazed him still just how much a mortal could achieve with the short time given to them, and it amazed him even more how much many of them wasted the time allotted to them.

Legolas sighed as he lent against a tree and looked up to the stars smiling faintly at the realisation that the night had almost disappeared. Gimli lay beside a burned out campfire, his snores loud and comfortingly familiar. Gimli had become an unlooked for friend, but a mortal one. There would come a day when his life, though long, would end. He, at least, was living his life to the full.

Stretching, Legolas pushed away from the tree, and moved silently away from the campsite. Although he was on guard, it was a rarity for orcs now to be spotted. With Sauron's demise, orcs were dying out, as were goblins and other such foul creatures. It was unlikely that any would disturb Gimli's rest, and Legolas much desired to bath his skin in the cool clear water of the lake that they were camped next to.

Without hesitation, Legolas took off his weapons, laying them carefully on the ground. He still carried his Lothlorien bow and much treasured it. The Lady Galadriel who had given it to him no longer dwelt on Middle Earth; she had sailed to the Undying Lands soon after the war. The bow was a precious keepsake of her, of her wisdom and her beauty. He was less careful with the rest of his clothes, tossing them down in a hurried heap, eager to feel the icy water against his skin.

Wading out into the depths of the lake silently, he sunk beneath the water allowing his long locks to flow out around him, before surfacing and floating watching the stars twinkling above his head. The cold did not bother him, as elves could tolerate most temperatures. In fact, the cold seemed to clarify his mind and made him feel almost one with the stars.

For a long time he floated, allowing the dust and grime of his journey to float away in the water whilst he meditated on the stars, watching them spin slowly across the sky. At last he smiled and lifted his head from the water, shaking the drops free before turning to swim to shore.

It was then that he saw it suddenly appear. One moment the lake was empty except for him and the fish swimming in its depths, and the next right next to him appeared a misshapen humanoid. There was no flash of magic to hint at its arrival, no indication of it stealthily hunting him. One second it was not there, and the next it was.

Startled, Legolas blinked as the creature splashed water into his face then gave a grimace of disgust as it reached out and grabbed hold of him. Its face was coarse, green skin flaking off, its eyes shut and its mouth open wide in an ear-piercing shriek. Its hair was short and greasy, sticking on end and covered in strange smelling mud that dribbled down its face, leaving a trail of brown against the green.

He shoved it back, cursing the lack of a weapon to smite down the beast, yet oddly invigorated as it seemed an age since he had last fought a foul creature. It disappeared under the water, then bobbed up again, its face appearing to melt and slide, its arms reaching out to latch onto him again. With a look of disgust, Legolas once again pushed the creature back and under the water, this time holding it there. It struggled, causing him to close his eyes against the splashing water, whilst he kicked his legs in an effort to keep his face above water level. The water was discoloured by whatever the creature had in its hair and he had no desire to put his face in that.

Quickly, the creature became limp, bubbles breaking the surface as its struggles ceased, and Legolas grimly let go edging back slightly and peering in the water to confirm that he had killed the creature. His eyes narrowed as it bobbed to the surface, face down. With a sinking heart and a curse he saw that the creature appeared to be human, the skin of its naked form faintly blue from the cold, its arms drifting out to its sides.

Muttering a curse, he took hold of an arm and flipped it over confirming that, despite the shorn hair, it was a woman. He peered into her face seeing that the green skin appeared to be some sort of mud covering her face and that a good deal of it had been removed in the struggle. Her eyes were closed, and she breathed not, though her heart still continued to weakly beat.

Moving as fast as he could, Legolas swam to shore, the woman grasped under one arm, her head lolling in the water. Pulling her up onto the bank, he quickly tilted her head back, held her nose close with her fingers and, ignoring what green mud remained around her mouth, covered it with his and blew gently into her lungs.

He turned to watch her chest descend before repeating the process.

"Come, lady." He murmured to her softly as he watched her expel his breath. "Live!"

A third time he covered her mouth with his and blew life into her lungs.

With a gasp, she suddenly arched her back, before violently coughing up large amounts of lake water. Legolas quickly turned her onto her side, rubbing her back, feeling the coldness of her skin under his warm fingertips. Relief that he hadn't killed her flooded him, and he sat back on his haunches watching her as she continued to cough up the water she had inhaled.

His gaze took in her details before he turned to gather his cloak to wrap around her. She was tall, her hair quite dark and extremely short. The faint scars on her abdomen showed that she had given birth to at least one babe, though her breasts still were firm and showed no signs of the endearing droop that many mortal woman displayed after birthing many children. She had the straightest, neatest scar he had ever seen near her right hip, which might have indicated that she was some sort of warrior. But her hands were soft and showed no sign of being used to holding weapons or for labour. A lady then perhaps? Her ears were strangely punctured with little holes, something that would have caused an elf a great deal of pain, but which would give a human only a short span of discomfort. Had she performed a trial of some sort, proving her strength?

Wrapping his cloak around her, he sat her upright and rubbed his hands up and down her arms encouraging her circulation while he waited for her to get her coughing under control. He used the edge of the cloak to wipe some more of the green mud from her face, and she turned to peer at him, her brown eyes slightly glassy and confused. Seeing him sitting behind her naked made her cough some more before she tried to edge away from him, her breathing becoming panicked.

He restrained her with an hand on her shoulder.

"Sit still, lady," he said quietly, trying to calm her, "I mean you no harm." He almost grimaced at this as he had, of course, caused her harm and he was feeling guilty for it.

She peered at him again, and spoke to him in a low voice, but Legolas did not know the language and it was obvious that she did not understand him so they ended up staring at each other in confusion. She frowned, an expression that seemed to come all too easily to her face and she repeated the words, this time with a hint of desperation to them.

Shaking his head, he stood and ignored the way she suddenly averted her gaze from his nakedness. Picking up his clothes he considered them, then her. She was icy cold and needed warmth, but her hips and chest were too broad to fit into his elf slender clothes. Quickly pulling them on, together with his boots and weapons, he returned to her side to find her huddled and shivering. Her toes and fingers were almost lavender from cold, her breathing unsteady. She was rocking slightly as if in shock.

Frowning, he crouched by her side, and took her shoulders, encouraging her to stand. She came to her feet unsteadily, shivering all the more as the cloak fell open, but she seemed not to notice. Concerned, Legolas wrapped the cloak firmly around her, then lifted her up into his arms. She was tall and she was heavy. Inelegantly, Legolas stumbled up the hill towards the camp, his elven hearing determining that Gimli was still asleep and snoring loudly.

"Bloody dwarves sleep through anything", he muttered.

_As mentioned earlier, feedback is appreciated!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Many thanks for the very kind reviews. Its always hard to start writing a new story, so feedback of anykind is especially welcome ;) I hope you enjoy this chapter..._

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Chapter Two 

Gimli woke up with a loud snort as Legolas approached the fire.

"Wha… what?" he demanded, sitting upright, his hand reaching for his axe, his eyes bleary and unfocused, "I'm awake, I'm awake!"

He peered towards Legolas whose normally calm and dispassionate face was looking at him in disgust, then he focused on the burden the Elf was carrying. A woman, wrapped up in a cloak, her skin and lips blue with cold, her short cropped hair dripping wet and her eyes shut tightly closed. Getting to his feet, Gimli grinned at his companion.

"Been fishing?" he asked, nodding at the lass.

Legolas frowned and ignored him, instead lowering the woman to the ground as gentle as her could, before turning to the fire.

"She needs heat," he said tersely, crouching down and poking the embers in an effort to get the fire to bloom again.

Gimli looked at the woman again, whose teeth were chattering so loudly it was making the elf wince. "Aye, that she does lad." He said, taking off his own sleep warm cloak and placing in on the woman's shoulders. She opened her eyes as she felt the added weight of cloth, her eyes lifting to look at Gimli who tried to give her a reassuring smile. Her eyes widened at the sight of him before closing tightly again and she began to rock faster, odd sounds coming from her lips.

"Who is she?" Gimli demanded, looking towards the elf again, "How did she come to be in such a state? Was she attacked? Why didn't you call for me to help fight? It's been too long since my axe tasted blood!"

Legolas paused putting wood on the fire, satisfied that was established and wouldn't go out. He glanced at the woman before looking at Gimli.

"I attacked her," he said quietly, "I am responsible for the state she is in now."

Gimli looked at him shocked, his mouth dropping open as Legolas went on to tell the tale of how she had suddenly appeared in front of him in the middle of the lake. When the story had been recounted, Legolas crouched beside the woman again, carefully peeling back the cloaks so he could look at her fingers and toes, frowning, as they still were slightly blue.

"Well, lad, 'tis plain that it wasn't your fault," Gimli said, trying to lighten the elf's mood, "I've always said that nothing but trouble comes from too frequent bathing."

Legolas, startled, looked at Gimli before allowing is mouth to widen into a smile. Gimli kept a straight face for a moment or two, before bursting into loud laughter, pleased with his own wit. The woman stopped rocking at the sound of his mirth, and opened her eyes focusing on him, her brown eyes puzzled at his laughter.

Still chuckling, Gimli turned to his pack and brought forth a flask of water and knelt down beside the woman, sloshing the contents slightly so she could discern that he was offering her fluid of some kind. She raised an eyebrow and glared at him, muttering something under her breath to which he laughed aloud again.

"Had enough water have you lass?" he smiled, "I'm afraid I have nothing stronger to offer – good ale doesn't travel well." He watched as she shook her head, and pushed the flask away, before lifting it to his own lips and taking a good gulp. Belching loudly, he held it out again before packing it away at her look of disgust.

Legolas in turn offered her some lembas, but again she refused. Thinking that she may be confused as to what he was offering her, he lifted some to his mouth and nibbled it, before offering again. She shook her head again, lowering her eyes and pulling the cloaks closer around her naked form, shivering but looking less cold than before.

Her hair was beginning to dry from the heat of the fire, lightening in colour to a warm brown, and drying into gentle curls. Looking closely at her hair, Legolas discerned that it wasn't hacked short, but rather it seemed to be styled that way on purpose. Frowning, he felt lost as to where this woman had appeared from; he knew of no cultures on Middle Earth that sculptured their hair in such a way as this female had.

In an effort to find out more, he tapped her gently on the leg.

"Lady, what is your name?" he asked softly, pointing at her. She frowned at him again, head tilting slightly to one side as she began to study him. She shook her head once more. "Legolas," the elf persisted pointing at himself. "Gimli," he pointed towards the dwarf, then pointed at her once more, an eyebrow raised in question.

Legolas saw realisation of the question he asked flash across her eyes, then with obvious reluctance she answered.

"Melissa."

Legolas smiled reassuringly to her and repeated her name.

"Lady Melissa," he bowed.

She scowled as he lifted his head.

"Melissa!", she ground out again.

"Har!" Gimli laughed with approval, "Seems the lass isn't one for silly titles!" Grinning at her he nodded and repeated her name. "Melissa!"

The woman nodded several times and then glanced back at the elf with an expression of such wonderment that he had got it wrong, that Legolas had to smile.

"Melissa," he murmured, watching her nod several times again. He paused for a moment, then decided to try and ask her more questions. "Where are your people, Melissa?"

She frowned again and shook her head, her shoulders lifting and dropping in the universal human gesture showing that she didn't know what he was talking about. Legolas hesitated for a moment, then pointed to her stomach, and then pretended to hold an infant.

"Where are your people, Melissa? Where are your children?"

The woman's face went suddenly very pale, her eyes full of hurt before they emptied of emotion and gazed back at him in studied indifference. She again shrugged, then turned her eyes to the fire and refused to look on him again.

Melissa had obviously had too much to drink. She remembered reading an article once that drinking ice cold wine in a hot bath was a sure-fire way to give yourself the mother of all hangovers. The author obviously had neglected to add that it also gave you the most vivid of dreams. Either that or she had finally gone completely mad and was hallucinating.

Finding herself in a great body of ice cold water in the middle of the night and then being held under until she drowned was certainly an original dream and not one she had experienced before. Kissing dreams were more familiar, but she had never had one end with her vomiting up copious amounts of water. The man responsible for kissing her till she was sick was certainly dreamlike. Perfectly formed, tall, slender, and absolutely beautiful. He hair was long, but despite the beauty of his face he was certainly not effeminate. His eyes were a startling blue and he almost glowed in the starlight of the cold night.

He was strong too, lifting her body in such a way that she had never experienced before. When Paul had carried her across the threshold after they were married, he had barely made it and teased her about her weight until she had almost cried. Her dream man carried her up a hill quickly, effortlessly, which confirmed to her that this was a dream even though the cold was making her entire body ache.

The second man in her dream was quite a surprise; short, broad with amazing amounts of red hair sprouting from his head and his face. She glared at him, then closed her eyes wishing him away so that she could spend more time with her blond fantasy man. However, this time her wish didn't work and she listened to them both talk to each other in a strange language that she just couldn't place. When the second man burst into loud laughter, Melissa opened her eyes and stared at him again accepting that this dream was completely out of control and she obviously wasn't going to get rid of him. Just so long as he didn't kiss her!

When he presented her a flask of water, she peered at him. The last thing that she needed was more fluid in her already sore stomach. After he took a swig from the flask and belched loudly, Melissa was thankful she had refused; she really didn't want to have anything near her mouth that had been in his, regardless if it was imagined. When her blond Adonis offered her something that looked like a ryvita, she refused again wondering if her subconscious was telling her it was time to diet again.

The terrible cold was beginning to wear off now as the little campfire soothed her chilled limbs. She was still aware that she was naked under the cloaks she was wrapped in, but she had experienced dreams where she had been naked before. She had read somewhere that it was something to do about insecurity and it was fairly logical that she experienced it now given that she had lost her job today. Frowning, she pushed that thought down, not wanting to wake from this dream just yet.

The blond man pointed to himself and said quietly "Legolas," then pointed to his companion and said "Gimli", before pointing at her and raising a very elegant eyebrow in question. Melissa frowned trying to think if she had ever named any of her fantasy dream people before, then quietly said her name, surprised at just how sore her throat was.

Adonis, or rather Legolas, smiled at her and she found herself lost in his perfection once again before he said her name completely wrong, prefixing it with an odd sound. She scowled. Just her luck to dream up a dumb blond. Gimli laughed out loud, his voice booming out a short clipped sentence before he nodded at her and said her name correctly.

Nodding, she peered back at Legolas who she swore almost chuckled at her, and then he said her name correctly. She nodded several times, just in case he wasn't smart enough to pick up on the first affirmation. He asked her another question, but Melissa was completely lost. She shook her head and shrugged, wishing that he would just be quiet so she could finish her dream admiring him before she woke up in what she was convinced would be horrible cold bath water.

When he pointed to her stomach and made the rocking motions of holding a child she froze. She felt sick. She didn't want this. She didn't want to think of it. This was a dream and she was in control. Think of anything else. Anything! She shook her head violently, and closed her eyes, bowing her head.

Time to wake up.

She lifted her head slightly to see that Legolas was looking at her with regret on his face, a clear expression of apology.

"Tough," she whispered. "Time to wake up."

She closed her eyes again and counted to ten, urging herself to leave this dream world behind. Opening her eyes she found that she was still huddled in front of the campfire and Gimli and Legolas were exchanging looks of unease.

Melissa frowned. Then she pinched herself hard, watching the flesh of her arm go white then deep red from her abusive fingers. The pinches hurt a lot, but still the image of Gimli and Legolas was before her. She began to panic.

"I can't wake up," she murmured, then looked at the pair beside her. "I cant wake up!" she said louder.

Legolas approached her, whispering something that might or might not have been supposed to calm her. The fact that she couldn't understand him made her feel even more panicked. She wanted to wake up, she wanted to be in a cold bath tub with her skin all pruned and a face pack dried on her face that would take probably an hour to chip off. She began to breath rapidly, fearing that she was going to be trapped in a dream forever, fearing that she had gone mad.

"No," she cried, shoving Legolas as he got too close to her. Her hands impacted with his sold chest, her fingers felt the heat of his skin radiating through his clothes. She felt his long hair brush the back of her hands, felt his own hands come up to capture hers whilst he continued to whisper reassurances. "No!" she screamed at him, and he winced, his hands flying to his ears as if her cry had hurt him.

She stumbled forward towards the fire, cloaks slipping from her shoulder and mindless of her nakedness. She reached her hand out, thrusting it toward the flame, feeling the heat scorch her skin, intent on breaking the spell that was keeping her locked in this endless dream. An arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back, holding her firm against a rock hard chest. Legolas held her close, all the time whispering nonsense in her ear encouraging her to be still, to not struggle. She kicked and arched against him wanting to wake, needing to escape, but he refused to let her go, capturing her burnt hand with his free hand, holding it still while Gimli tsked and poured water over it to try and ease the burn.

His task complete he retrieved the cloaks and placed them over her once more, this time over Legolas' arm which still held her tight against his chest, refusing to let her go. Her strength ebbing, he easily pulled her back into his lap adjusting the cloaks to cover every inch of her body, ceaselessly whispering to her , rocking her as one would a child.

A child.

Melissa allowed herself to go limp, exhausted and afraid. She tilted her head to look up into Legolas' face, her eyes welling with tears that she wouldn't allow to fall.

"I want to wake up," she whispered.

He frowned, frustrated that he couldn't understand her, and held her tighter in his embrace.

"I want to wake up!"


	3. Chapter 3

Many thanks for your kind reviews! Thanks to **Blurr** (wonderful to see you again!), **Crecy**, **Deafening Si1ence **(Heh, I do kinda know where its going. I usually don't start posting a story until I have the plot completely worked out, but this one has been a little different. I've written up to chapter 8 so far and will try and post each Friday until its finished, or until I have run out of chapters to post!), **Madrone** and **FFAMasquerade2005**.

Hope you enjoy this one, let me know what you think ;)

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Chapter Three.

Melissa dreamed of being held under cold icy water by strong hands denying her air and light. She struggled, needing to breathe so very desperately, longing for the light and wanting to scream out the words:

"I want to wake up!"

And she did. She sat bolt upright, her eyes snapping open, her mouth gasping for air as she cried the words out. Panting, she looked around, eyes slightly dazzled by strong sunlight that shone down from a clear blue sky. She was wrapped in soft grey cloaks and was beside a small fire that was giving out a great deal of heat. Above the fire was suspended a small blackened pot the contents of which were giving off steam.

Melissa closed her eyes, then opened them again. The fire and pot remained. She breathed deeply trying to stay calm and her nose caught of whiff of body odour. Lowering her nose to the cloaks, she grimaced as she detected the smell of stale sweat on one. Lifting an arm she was disconcerted to find that she was slightly sweaty from being wrapped up next to a fire, but also noted that her own odour wasn't as musky as that was on the cloak.

She also noted to her horror that she was naked.

"Where the hell are my clothes?" she muttered looking around and then flinched as she suddenly realised that she was not alone.

Standing quite close to her, observing her movements intently and standing perfectly still, was the blond Adonis of her dreams looking exceedingly medieval and rather handsome. Only she was awake. Feeling quite sick that she apparently hadn't escaped her dream, or that her dream was in fact real and she had been sucked into some strange new world, Melissa pulled the cloak closer to her body and asked weakly,

"Legolas, right?"

He tipped his head to one side as she spoke and his lips pulled into the faintest to smiles as he nodded. His hair was braided in such a way as it drew attention to the way his ears were slightly pointed, and Melissa found her gaze drawn to them, before looking away embarrassed to be staring at their unfortunate shape.

"Melissa, right?" he responded, his voice soft and gentle reminding her of the exotic words he had whispered to her earlier in an effort to calm her. She felt a shiver go up her spine, before her eyes narrowed.

"Wait, you speak English?" she demanded. He looked at her blankly, and her shoulders drooped. "Ah, just copying me, huh?"

He continued to stare at her and she him, until he smiled again and shrugged his shoulders in a decidedly deliberate manner that she suspected was for her benefit. He crouched then beside her and pointed to the pot, and then to her before miming the action of eating. She glanced towards the pot and shook her head.

"No, I'm not hungry", she said, before pointing to herself, "I could do with some clothes though."

Legolas frowned slightly, his eyes seeming to study her mouth as she talked. He shook his head.

"No," he said, an eyebrow raising in question.

Melissa sighed. It seemed Legolas wanted to know her language, which was a good thing because she certainly couldn't understand his language and it would be nice to find out just where the hell she was. Unfortunately, all she really wanted to do was get dressed so that she didn't feel so blessed vulnerable. Whilst it may have been most women's dream to be semi-naked in front of an exotically handsome stranger, it was not hers. And she really wanted to get away from the smelly cloak and wash herself, not to mention brush her teeth as her mouth felt disgusting.

"No?" Legolas repeated patiently, shaking his head again, his blond hair glinting in the sun.

"No", Melissa confirmed shaking her head. "Yes," she continued nodding it, before reaching out and touching Legolas' tunic. "Clothes!" she said, before pointing at herself, "My clothes. Melissa's clothes!"

Legolas' lips pulled into a faint smile again before he said, "Melissa's clothes no." He stood up, and moved to the other side of the camp before bending down to rummage through a small bag that Melissa hadn't previously noticed. Pulling out some crumpled white fabric, he returned to her side, crouching and presenting it to her with a look of apology on his face.

"Gimli's clothes," he said.

Melissa raised an eyebrow as she carefully took the garment from Legolas and shook it out. It appeared to be a linen shirt that once upon a time may have been white but now was quite soiled and creased and seemed to be giving off an odour similar to the cloak which was still wrapped around her.

"Oh, you have to be kidding me," she said, bending her nose to it to confirm the smell, "Oh, Lord. You want me to wear this?"

Legolas was frowning again, watching her lips as she talked, seeing her obvious displeasure. "Melissa no clothes," he said again.

Melissa felt like shrieking. She eyed the shirt again noting that it wasn't exactly long in the body and wouldn't cover her rear end. Peering up at Legolas again she pointed at he leggings.

"Pants!" she said, "I need pants!"

Legolas looked down at his legs and then back at hers, still firmly wrapped in the cloak and looked a little embarrassed. He in turn pointed at his pants, then made a gesture with his hands coming together. Melissa felt her face go pink.

"Oh, I'm too wide for your pants, am I?" she glared, eyeing the man's narrow hips. He had a point. There was no way she would be able to get her quite ample hips and posterior into something that small. Unless they were made of lycra. Which she seriously doubted.

Sensing his expectation of new words, she carefully poked her other hand out of the cloak and made the same gesture as Legolas had. "Small", she said.

Legolas nodded, and murmured "Legolas pants small."

Melissa rolled her eyes, and looked back down at the shirt. As much as she loathed the idea, she had to ask.

"Gimli's pants?" she whispered, wondering just what state they would be in.

Legolas looked surprised then made the same gesture with his hands, this time vertically instead of horizontally. "Gimli's pants small," he said.

"Too short?" Melissa asked, ignoring the fact that Legolas couldn't really understand what she said. "I don't care if they fit like hot pants, I need them!" she pushed herself up to stand, then thrust out a hand. "Gimli's pants!" she demanded.

Legolas hesitated for a moment, then turned and swiftly rummaged through this friend's bag, before placing the garment in Melissa's outstretched hand. She peered at them and grimaced. They were in a worse condition than the shirt, with grass stains, dirt and, oh Lord, was that blood and bits of dried flesh? Suppressing a shudder, she looked around and spotted the lake. With out hesitation, she strode towards it ignoring Legolas who was most probably asking her just where the hell she was going. Slowing down at the rocky shore, she picked her way to the edge and threw the clothes into the water. For good measure, she shrugged off the smelly cloak (the second one closer to her skin being much less offensive in scent) and hurled that in too.

Glancing back at Legolas, she made a gesture with her hand, spinning a circle with her fingers indicating that he should turn around. He stared at her and folded his arms and she sighed.

"Turn around!" she demanded, and he nodded, and did so. Working as quickly as she could, not trusting him not to peek, she shrugged off the cloak and wrapped it around her body in a sarong, leaving her shoulders and lower legs bare, then she waded into the icy cold water. Bending over the garments she dunked them a couple of times wondering just how the heck she was going to get them clean when she didn't have soap. Even if she had soap, she wondered how in the heck she would get them clean. She had only ever washed anything in a washing machine or had it dry-cleaned.

Washing machines agitated clothes so she decided this was a good idea and crouched in the water agitating for all she was worth. All she managed to achieve was to kick up sediment from the bottom of the lake, which was probably not going to help the clothes get any cleaner. Sighing, she glanced at the shore to see Legolas standing still and still facing the opposite direction. His slightly pointed ears seemed a little pink.

Grumbling, she picked up the clothes, and squeezed water out. Encouraged by the amount of dirty water dislodged, she walk along to less muddied water and repeated the process. Glancing to the shore she saw that Legolas was still parallel to her, so he must have peeked to see her move. Checking that the cloak still covered all her important bits, she continued struggling with the clothes, every so often lifting them to her nose to check and see if they were loosing their disgusting scent.

Finally, satisfied that she was going to get them no cleaner, she lifted from the water, and walked awkwardly to the shore, slightly dragging the sodden cloak that was surprisingly heavy. Squeezing as much water as she could from each garment, she looked around wondering just what to do next. No dryer to put them in, and no handy clothesline with pegs. Considering her options, she decided to spread them out over the hot rocks that littered the short of the lake trusting in the warm sun and the heat the rocks contained to dry them quickly.

Satisfied that she had done all she could, she turned and stalked back to the icy water to clean herself. Peering back up at Legolas, who was still standing with his back presented to her, she decided to take a quick dip. Unwrapping the cloak and dropping it on the stony shore, she bit her lip briefly as she eyed the water knowing how cold it was. The desire to be clean quickly overtook the desire to remain warm and she waded quickly in, before ducking her entire body under the water.

It was as cold as she remembered, and her head ached the instant it was submerged. Surfacing quickly, she shook her face free of water and glanced towards the shore to see Legolas stalking towards her, already up to his knees in the water. Melissa let out a quick shriek and lifted her hand signalling him to stop.

"Don't you dare come any closer! Turn around! Turn around!" she hissed, before twirling her hand.

He halted at her gesture, his eyes dipping to her chest and his ears going slightly red again. Melissa glanced down and saw that her rather ample chest was partially out of the water and she scowled at the man before quickly dipping down so the water covered her shoulders. Legolas hesitated again, then with obvious reluctance retreated to the shore, pausing to pick up the abandoned dry cloak, before turning his back to her once more.

Once she was sure he wasn't going to peek again, Melissa quickly dunked her head under the water again, fingers massaging her scalp in an effort to get her hair clean. She then sloshed water in her armpits and other potentially smelly areas, all the while bemoaning the lack of soap; how could she get really clean without it? Finally she rinsed her mouth with water, using a finger to massage her gums and wondering just how soon she could get hold of a toothbrush.

When she was done, she peered back up to the shore at Legolas' statue like figure.

"Legolas!" she called, lifting a chilled hand to point at the cloak, "Go away and leave the cloak there for me!" she demanded.

He turned as she called his name and hesitated, obviously unsure what she wanted him to do. Groaning and desperate to get out of the water, she pointed at the cloak. "Cloak! Melissa's cloak. " He looked down at the garment, shaking it out so that it fell open in his hands. He then beckoned her with one hand, before lifting the garment so that it covered his face and effectively screened his vision of her.

Melissa's teeth began to chatter.

"Turn around!" she called, loathed to leave the water with him facing her, even though his face was hidden.

"No!", he called back, shaking the cloak again in what she took to be an impatient gesture.

Irritated beyond belief, she considered her options. She could remain in the water and slowly die of hypothermia or she could just get out of the water and trust Legolas not to peek. Grumbling, she decided to go with the latter as her feet were numb and she longed to be huddled in front of the fire. Cautiously, she waded towards the shore, rushing the last few steps, stumbling over rocks, until she was directly in front of the man. He wrapped her in the welcoming folds of the cloak, bringing one end up to gently rub her hair, all the while speaking in his soft voice. She was pretty sure he was telling her off, but at this point she was too cold to care.

Satisfied with her hair, he placed one arm around her shoulder, and lowered his other hand to her legs apparently preparing to lift her up. Melissa blinked, then batted his hand away, then pulled the cloak closer to her.

"I'm cold, not crippled," she said, before moving to the drying clothes. They were still quite damp, but she was damned if she was going to wander around naked a moment longer. Looking up at Legolas she pointed at him.

"You!", she said firmly, then pointed at the ground. "Stay!"

He raised his eyebrow at her again, but she ignored him and, holding the clothes close to her, stalked off to change behind the nearest tree.

"Where is the lass?" Gimli's voice boomed across the campsite, making Legolas wince slightly. He had heard the dwarf approaching for some time for his friend seemed to care little for quiet. He had tried to carry Melissa back to the fire before Gimli arrived in an effort to preserve her modesty, but she had refused instead stalking off to change into unsuited clothes. Most mortals were in awe of elves and to find one that was argumentative and almost disrespectful was an interesting turn of events for Legolas and quite refreshing.

Turning, Legolas watched the dwarf drop a brace of rabbits next to the fire, before wiping his slightly bloody fingers on his jerkin.

The elf nodded towards the tree, behind which Melissa had disappeared, indicating to the dwarf where their temporary charge was then picked up the washed cloak she had discarded and took it to the campfire, and laid it out on the ground so that it could dry. The woman would need it tonight for bedding, as she seemed unable to tolerate the cold very well.

And yet she had entered the water to clean both the dirty clothes he had presented her, despite obviously having no real knowledge on how to achieve the task. He had been taken aback by her actions, especially when she had exposed her legs and shoulders in an effort to get the job done. Elves were modest creatures, seldom showing the skin of arms let alone legs. To see her with his cloak wrapped around her body, one end tucked between her breasts to keep it in place had made him flush with embarrassment, tinged with a certain level of curiosity and fascination. He had always been drawn to mortals, and Melissa was no exception.

She had again surprised him when she had removed his cloak and plunged her body in the water to clean it. At first he had been convinced that she was trying to return to where she had come from and he had stalked towards her determined to stop her harming herself in her attempt. She had turned and instructed him most firmly to leave her be oblivious to the fact that her ample chest was half out of the water. Legolas had found himself flushing again, this time to such an extent that she had noticed and at once had dipped down below the water again demanding that he turn around.

Obeying her request (or rather her command) he had retreated and had listened intently to her bathing, determined to drag her out should she get into any trouble. She spent a long time seeing to her body and he almost went to fetch her when his elfin ears detected her teeth chattering. Finally, she finished and again demanded that he leave the shore so she could get out of the water her modesty intact. Concerned that she was too cold to manage it, he refused and beckoned her out holding his cloak in front of him as a shield.

A fairly flimsy shield. As an elf he had particularly good sight. He had no trouble observing her through the warp and weft of the cloth and, though troubled by his lack of good manners, had studied her intently as she waded to the shore.

Her body was very different from a woman of his kind. It curved. Rather dramatically in places. His eyes settled on her rounded stomach and confirmed that there were indeed silvery lines signifying childbirth there. Her age, he could not determine which left him with a faint feeling of disquiet. Her body looked young, but her eyes and her manner spoke of greater age. Her close cropped hair fascinated him and as she finally stumbled up to him, her took the opportunity of touching it under the guise of drying it with one corner of the cloak. It was very fine and soft; almost as soft as his own hair. He had wondered if human's hair became progressively coarser the longer it grew, and whether all female mortals would have hair such as this if they cropped their locks.

A snorted cough beside him bought Legolas back to the immediate moment and he peered at Gimli who appeared to be in the midst of a choking fit. Gimli pointed, and Legolas turned to see Melissa emerging from behind the tree. His annoyance at being so distracted he didn't hear the girl move was suddenly lost as he focused on what she was wearing, or rather how. The pants, as predicted, where too short and left her calves exposed. The shirt similarly exposed her lower arms and she had gathered together the excess material of the body of the shirt, knotting it at her waist. The effect exaggerated her large breasts and left her waist exposed and was extremely immodest.

"Well, that's something you don't see everyday," Gimli murmured, averting his eyes from the woman.

Legolas found himself flushing for the third time in as many hours, and quickly made his way to her side, pulling his cloak from her hand, and wrapping it over her shoulders in an effort to hide her form. She gave him an odd look, before picking her way across rocks to the fire, where she sat down and shrugged the cloak from her shoulders, holding her hands out to the flames warming them.

Legolas gave a long-suffering sigh as once again her skin was exposed to the sky.

"Where on earth do you come from, lady?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Gimli peered at Legolas.

"Are those my clothes, laddie?" he questioned, nodding towards Melissa but taking great pains to keep his eyes off her.

Legolas nodded as he watched the woman get settled in front of the fire, wriggling her fingers and toes in the warmth of the flame and looking a good deal more content now that she was clothed. Sensing his eyes upon her, she looked up at him and give him a small smile, before running her fingers through here hair, and agitating it till it almost stood on end.

"Looks a good deal better on her than it ever did on me," Gimli snorted, his eyes now focused on the woman drying her hair.

Legolas stiffened as he saw the dwarf's eyes fixate on Melissa's breasts, and he knelt down beside her, lifting the once again discarded cloak to her shoulders, hoping to shield her form from both their gazes. She glared at him and wiggled it off again, waving her hand in front of her face and saying a word that Legolas took to be 'hot' and then a phrase which probably meant 'I'm too hot'.

Dutifully, he repeated the words, and wondered how on earth her was to convey to her that all the cultures he knew in Middle-Earth required modesty in their women. Frowning slightly he pointed at her midriff and said the word for clothes, then short, then no. Melissa frowned back and pointed to Gimli and said with apparently asperity in her voice that Gimli was short. A few other words were added and Legolas could only imagine from her tone that she was asking just what in Mordor could she do about it.

Gimli raised an eyebrow at the communication going on between elf and woman, then snorted and picked up the rabbits preparing to skin and gut them.

"Wouldn't it be more useful, laddie, to teach her common so she can communicate with all of us?" he said as he pulled out a knife and ran it up the belly of the first rabbit with practised ease, piercing the pelt, but not the meat underneath.

Melissa watched the dwarf's actions with something akin to horror on her face. When he swiftly cut off the rabbit's head, and pulled the pelt from the carcass she blanched and turned away, looking a little green. Gimli, unaware of her discomfort or ignoring it, proceeded to skin the second rabbit.

"There was sign of Orc spore about lad," the dwarf casually went on as he worked, "I caught sight of it befouling the other side of the lake while I was hunting."

Legolas switched his gaze from Melissa to the lakeshore, his keen eyes surveying the area. "Fresh?" he questioned.

"Still steaming," Gimli grunted, moving away from the camp to gut his kill. "Not many, but enough to convince me that we need to be shifting sooner rather than later." He gestured to Melissa who was staring at the flames, and looking a little sleepy in its warm glow. "The question is, what do we do with her?"

Legolas turned to the dwarf and raised an eyebrow. "She comes with us," he stated. "We cannot leave her here. She is helpless and would soon die."

Gimli grunted, pulling out rabbit's guts with his fingers, before wiping his bloody hands once again on his leggings. "And what if her people come searching for her here?" he asked, "What if her only way back to wherever she came from is linked to the lake in which she appeared?"

Legolas considered. Melissa had become very emotional at the suggestion of children or family. She had not tried to communicate with him about seeking out anyone, so he was fairly sure that she was alone. She had no apparent skills to help her survive in the wild. Everything about her indicated that she was used to a pampered existence, and knew not the first thing about taking care of herself. If they left her here she would die, of this Legolas was certain. If they took her with them, she would be an encumbrance if they were attacked, but one that he was happy to forbear.

"She travels with us," Legolas said firmly, his eyes once again scanning the land about them.

Gimli snorted, as he walked down to the lake's edge to wash out the carcasses. "You need to rip up some of your own garments to wrap her feet in," he called over his shoulder, "I'll not sacrificed any more of my clothes! And where exactly does Master Elf propose we take the lass?"

Legolas considered. The wise elves of old, Elrond and Galadriel had left Middle Earth and not for the first time did he regret their passing. If anyone could solve the mystery of this strange woman, then it would have been Galadriel. The woods of Lothlorien were now in the hands of Celeborn, Galadriel's husband, whilst Rivendell was ruled over by Elrond's twin sons Elladan and Elrohir.

They were much closer to Rivendell than they were Lothlorien, but Legolas was sorely tempted to turn back to those ancient woods to seek counsel from Celeborn. He was the twin's grandfather and was years wiser; Legolas was sure that he would know something about Melissa's mysterious appearance. But he and Gimili had been travelling on foot, the dwarf never quite having got over his dislike of horses. It would be a tough trek to Lothlorien for Melissa, especially given her lack of boots.

"Rivendell," Legolas decided. "We let her rest one more day then head for Rivendell."

Gimli huffed his agreement as he finished cleaning the rabbits and approached the fire. Observing Melissa wrinkling her nose at the skinned carcasses, he shook them at her and said loudly in common

"Rabbits!"

Melissa blinked, looked at Legolas, then back at Gimli, then softly attempted the word. Gimli grinned and nodded at her second attempt to get it right, before throwing them into the bot of boiling liquid over the fire. Her nose wrinkled again as some of the liquid splashed over the side of the pot, hissing as it evaporated on the hot embers beneath. Her frown deepened, and she shifted uncomfortably, and Legolas' sensitive hearing picked up her stomach rumbling. Reminded that she had not yet broken her fast, he retrieved some Lembas from his pack and crouched beside her holding it out.

"Eat," he said in common and then seeing her confusion lifted it to his lips and mimicked eating.

She raised an eyebrow peering at it, and shook her head speaking her word for no.

"No," he repeated in common and then held the lembas out to her again. "Eat," he repeated, "Eat lembas."

Melissa hesitated again then reached out and took the bread from Legolas' hand. She mumbled something under her breath before taking a very tentative nibble from one corner of it. Her nose wrinkled and her expression was one of disgust that showed just how little she rated the taste.

Gimli roared with laughter as he sat down on the opposite side of the fire from her.

"Seems the lass has little liking for your elfish food, laddie," he said before nodding at the pot, "Rabbit stew will help put some meat on your bones, lass! Good, wholesome hearty food!"

Melissa tried to hand the bread back to Legolas, but he shook his head and considered just how he could communicate to her that she needed to eat to fuel her body for the long trek that was a head of them. His inability to talk to her was frustrating, and he could see that she was annoyed by her inability to tell him exactly what he could do with his lembas.

Finally, he pointed at the sun, and made an arch down to the horizon, then closed his eyes pretending to sleep in a human fashion. Then he opened his eyes and pointed at Melissa before using two fingers to imitate a person walking.

"Tomorrow we walk," he said in common, "Eat."

She blinked. Placing the bread in her lap she copied the sign he did for walking, raising an eyebrow at him. Legolas smiled and said the word walk. She repeated it, and then said a word in her language that he duly repeated back to her.

"Short?" she questioned in her own language.

"No," Legolas replied in common, shaking his head. "Long" he said, spreading his arms out wide to try and indicate a large distance. He pointed at the sun again and then held fingers up. "Two days…" he looked at her feet, frowned and then lifted another finger, "maybe three."

She blinked again.

"Three?" she demanded lifting three fingers. "Three walk?"

"Yes," Legolas confirmed, noting that once again she was frowning and looking very unimpressed.

Gimli snorted. "With those soft feet, we are probably going to take at least four, lad." He waggled four thick fingers in front of Melissa's face and then his eyes went wide as she hissed out a word that left both dwarf and elf in little doubt it was an expletive. Gimli roared in laughter, "Translate that, lad!" he winked to Legolas.

Legolas folded his arms, raised his eyes to the heavens and chose not to.

They had to be kidding. Three day walking? Possibly four? Melissa was feeling seriously disgruntled. She had no proper clothes. She had no proper food. She had bare feet. And she hadn't walked seriously any distance since she was a child, more years ago than she cared to remember. She peered at Gimli who was laughing so hard his eyes were watering. Well, at least he found the situation amusing.

Surely they had some form of transportation? Melissa could accept that she had fallen into some sort of weird alternative universe somehow accessed through her bathtub. She could accept that it was populated with weird looking men (well, ok, one weird looking and one extremely hot looking) who couldn't speak English, which made communication a nightmare. She could even accept that she was going to exist on nasty ryvitas for the foreseeable future (there was no way in hell that she was going to eat anything with rabbit in it - not after watching Watership Down and owning a pet rabbit of her own). But what she could not accept was the possibility that there was no form of transport other than walking.

Clearing her throat loudly to get Legolas' attention off the sky and Gimli to stop his hysterical laughing, she made her fingers of her right hand walk on the palm of her left hand.

"Walk no", she said firmly, then held her hands out pretending to hold onto a steering wheel. "Car? Drive?" she questioned. At their blank looks, she swallowed her pride and made a 'brum' noise, a sound universally recognised by children in her world and used when pretending to be a racing car driver.

Gimli and Legolas shared a look and Melissa, catching it, went silent and lowered her hands. So, no cars. She really ought to have expected that. The men were wearing knifes and Legolas was wearing a quiver full of arrows on his back. So perhaps this was a pre-industrial society that she was in. In which case they may have horse and carts.

Swallowing her remaining pride she stood and with exaggerated movements pretended to get on the back of a horse. Holding imaginary reins in her hands she began to trot around in circles and attempted to reproduce the whiney of a horse. Stopping, she turned to Gimli and Legolas and raised an eyebrow.

Gimli looked disgruntled, and Legolas' eyes were fixated on her chest. Belatedly she realised that she had no bra on and trotting around in circles made her breasts jiggle rather more than she would like. Folding her arms across her chest, she glared at Legolas as his eyes lifted to meet her own. The tips of his ears turned red.

"Horse?" Melissa grated out, "Do you have a horse?"

"No horse," Legolas replied, and repeated it in his own language. When she didn't respond, he repeated it again, and nodded at her encouraging her to repeat the words. He then used his fingers to sign walking again, and appended a couple of words to the no horse statement, obviously saying 'No horse, we walk'.

"Shit!" Melissa cursed, ignoring his request to repeat the words. Gimli once again laughed, and murmured something to Legolas, who shook his head and murmured something back, probably along the lines of 'don't encourage her'.

Melissa sighed deeply and turned around looking towards the lake. Somewhere out there in the deep cold water was the gateway that bought her to this strange place. She wondered if she could return to her own luke warm bath by swimming out to the centre of the lake, by closing her eyes and wishing to be home. Was it even her wish that made her come here? Was it that a person was granted in their life just one wish to come true? Or was it some strange once in a life time occurrence that transported her here. What if she couldn't return home. Did she even want to return - after all, what was there for her?

A tear slid down her cheek and she lifted a hand to wipe it away, blinking rapidly to try and stop anymore forming. Feeling a hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see Legolas regarding her with concern on his face. She really didn't need his sympathy. The heat from his hand as it gently squeezed her shoulder made her eyes well up with more tears. She was strong. She could handle this situation without anyone else. Just as she had done before.

Twisting slightly, she moved away from Legolas, walking towards the woods edging the lake with purpose. She needed to be alone. She had to have quiet to push down her sadness and confusion. And she really, really needed to pee. Legolas, however, was having none of it. His hand caught hers and he pulled her to a stop.

"No," he said in his language pointing to the woods, "No!" he repeated frowning.

Melissa's tears disappeared and frustration took over.

"Look, I really, really need to have some privacy," she said and then blushed wondering just how she was going to explain that she needed to relieve herself.

Legolas pulled on her hand, encouraging her to return to the camp.

"No!" she said firmly to him in his own language and then hesitated before pointing at the woods, pointing at herself and then jiggling up and down on the spot in attempt to show that she needed to relieve herself and she needed to now. Legolas once again focussed on her breasts.

Gimli, however, seemed to get her meaning and called over to Legolas. Legolas' eyes lifted from her breasts and turned to Gimli before his ears went pink again. He turned back to her and nodded saying 'yes' in her language.

Melissa, needing to pee, but needing to know the correct word to make the request again did her jiggle again before asking 'What?'.

The blush spread from Legolas' ears to his neck, but he dutifully said a word, which Melissa repeated before turning to make her way behind a tree. She grimaced as she walked. The thought of squatting to relieve herself in the middle of a wood was not a pleasant one. Just what on earth was she supposed to use as toilet paper? She stopped abruptly at this thought and found that Legolas was still beside her, matching her step for step. Throwing her hands up in horror she pointed at the camp.

"No, turn around, go back!" she demanded, "I wont have you watching me, you …. Pervert!"

Legolas frowned and said something long and complicated and again Melissa found the frustration of her inability to understand almost overwhelm her.

"No!" she frowned, crossing her arms.

"Yes!" he replied, crossing his.

"Oh, for Gods sake!" Melissa hissed, almost stamping her foot in her frustration. Legolas merely stared at her. "Look, you can come, but you cant look!" she conceded, holding her hands up to cover his eyes. Legolas smiled slightly and nodded. "And you cant listen either!" she demanded, moving her hands to cup his ears.

Instantly, he was motionless, the blush returning to his ears. Satisfied that he understood, she dropped her hands and turned to stalk towards the woods again, scanning the ground and trees as she walked looking for a suitable leaf to act as toilet paper. Seeing a wide and slightly furry leaf on what appeared to be a perennial weed, she stooped to harvest a few, but found her hand once again captured by Legolas.

"No," he said, shaking his head, together with some words that seemed to be "Don't touch."

She hesitated and looked from the plant to Legolas, and back to the plant again. Was it poison? Did it sting? Was it sacred? Frowning, and looking around, she suddenly realised just how helpless she was. She had no idea about nature in her own world and would stand little chance of survival if lost in the wild. Here she was even more ignorant.

Tears threatened to fall again.

Legolas frowned again, and pulled her towards another plant nearby. It had many leaves, clustered around a short stem and reminded her of the dock weed, something that grew in her own garden. He plucked a few leaves and handed them to her and said a name, which she duly repeated, and then pointed towards the trees again.

She stared at the leaves and the plant, committing them to memory. If she became separated from Legolas and Gimli, then at least she would have enough knowledge to wipe her own bottom. She smiled at this thought, unable to hold back a little titter of laughter. Legolas stared at her again, but seemed satisfied not to question her odd behaviour.

"Thank you", she said in English, before once again picking her way into the wood carefully, mindful of prickles in her feet. Finding a suitable tree, she moved towards it, sending some pointed looks back at Legolas. He obediently stopped and turned around and at her 'ahem' raised his hands to his head.

Peeling down the pants and crouching so as not to wet her clothes or splash her feet was not an easy task. Melissa was so very pleased that she didn't have the need to do anything more than just pee. Finishing as quickly as she could, she gingerly used the leaves to wipe herself, and was pleasantly surprised at the cool, fresh sensation of the plant against her body. Standing, she pulled up her pants and started lacing them, before she realised that she was not as alone as she thought she was.

Glancing to her immediate left she saw that she was being observed by a very odd looking man. Legolas had odd shaped ears, Gimli was incredibly short and wide, but this fellow seemed to have even more excessive abnormalities. His skin was oily black and seemed to have the texture of elephant hide. Not that she had touched an elephant, but she had seen them reasonably close up in a zoo. His mouth was pulled into a rather menacing smile, and his teeth were yellowed and uneven. He was large. Very large. His legs were think and muscled, as were his arms, and in his hand he held a rather wicked looking sword, with a jagged edge to it. His hair was filthy and hung over his shoulders and he appeared to have been in lots fights as he was heavily scared.

She stared at him, and he stared back before his mouth pulled into a smile that looked more like a snarl. Melissa moved a couple of steps towards him and thought about holding out her hand in a traditional handshake greeting, but then remembered she had just relieved herself and had not, as yet, been able to wash her hands. Not that this chap probably would have cared. He reeked more than Gimli, and that was saying something.

"Er, hello," she said, her voice a little more timid than she would liked it to have been.

The man blinked at her, and looked confused.

"I'm Melissa," she went on trying a friendly smile, "Not that you can understand a word I'm saying," she muttered and he scowled again and sniffed the air. Melissa's smile faded. "That's not me you can smell, buddy," she said firmly.

He spoke some guttural words then, and leered at her. She was sure it was a leer, as his eyes travelled down to her chest and he licked his lips. What was it with the people in this land and breasts, she wondered, her arms automatically folding over her chest to shield it from his sight. Before she could tell him off, and never mind him not understanding, he launched himself at her, a filthy hand wrapping itself around her throat, before he lifted her off the ground.

Melissa's cry of surprise and fear was choked from her as the hand squeezed. Her own hands clawed at his trying to release some of the pressure from her throat so she could breath. He chuckled, pulling her close to him and licking her cheek before hissing something at her. Melissa nearly vomited from the feel of his syliva clinging to her face, and her feet wildly kicked in an attempt to try and free herself.

Then suddenly two things happened. A whoosh of something going fast beside her ear, so close she could almost feel it. Then the man's hissed words were choked off and his grip around her neck loosened and she fell to the ground in a crouch. Another whoosh, and looking up Melissa saw that he had two arrows protruding from his neck, the second pinning his hand where he had been trying to pull away the first arrow. Blood foamed up out of his mouth as he pulled at the arrows, then his eyes rolled back and he fell down to the ground and was still.

Melissa looked behind her to see a very angry looking Legolas still holding his bow loaded with an arrow, peering around the wood and Melissa suddenly had the sinking feeling that the man had not been alone. Coughing, she looked back down at the man who attacked her and saw that his chest was still. He wasn't breathing. Legolas had shot him with two arrows and had killed him.

Whimpering a little, she backed away and tried very hard to keep calm. Legolas had killed a man. A man that had tried to attack her, but she seriously doubted that was reason enough to kill. She couldn't pull her eyes away from the man lying on the ground, couldn't stop staring at his chest waiting for it to move and suck in another breath. How could Legolas have killed him in such a cruel and painful manner? How could he have killed him at all?

She had only ever seen a corpse once before, that of her own child, her daughter. Staring at the body in front of her stirred up all those horrible memories. Swallowing, she tried to stuff them back down and found that she could not. It wasn't a man lying before her. It was her baby.

Legolas' hand suddenly touched her arm, making her jump and tear her gaze away from the dead man. He stared at her, and seemed surprised at her shock at witnessing him murder someone. Without a second thought, Melissa shoved at Legolas and ran into the woods. She needed to get away, she had to get away from the dead body and the murderous man and her child. She couldn't relive the horror again, she wouldn't!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Legolas was furious with himself. Not only had he failed to detect the presence of an orc so close he ought to have smelt the creature, he had allowed it to attack Melissa. Her modesty at her body's need to relieve itself had amused him, and her silent instructions for him to not look or listen to the act that she was to perform he had agreed to. He had been distracted by the touch of her hands, however innocently, on his ears. He intended to pretend not to listen, and had, instead, relived the moments that her fingertips had brushed over his sensitive ears, stirring sexual feelings he had not had in some years.

Her murmured whisper, followed by a startled cry had brought him to his senses. He had quickly moved so that he had her in his sight, only to find her held aloft by the neck in the hands of an orc. Legolas had quickly pulled forth an arrow from his quiver and aimed, but the creature had pulled Melissa closer to him, running his filthy tongue over her cheek, telling her in its ugly language just what it was going to do to her before it killed her.

Legolas had been forced to move and aim again, silently urging Melissa not to struggle too much and put her body in the path of the arrow. Letting loose his bow, he was satisfied to see that his aim was true. Melissa fell to the forest floor coughing hard as Legolas quickly sent another arrow to finish the beast that would have defiled her.

Her reaction to her rescue was not as he anticipated. Rather than be thankful, she looked at him with absolute horror on her face, pushing him back as he reached out to encourage her return to the safety of the camp. And then she ran.

Surprised, Legolas for a moment or two was motionless and observed her running off through the trees. Then, muttering a curse, he dashed after her. He caught up to her with little effort, but was once again surprised at her reaction. She pushed him back again, before turning to dash off in another direction. The scent of tears and blood hung around her, and glancing down he saw that she had cut her feet in her flight and he knew he had to stop her before she did herself more damage. He caught her again, this time his arm wrapped tightly around her waist and he pulled her into his body, lifting her slightly so that her feet could not touch the ground.

She fought him, twisting this way and that upsetting his normally excellent balance. They fell to the forest floor, Legolas ensuring that he landed first and he held Melissa tight to his chest as she continued to struggle. He murmured words in her ear, trying to calm her, until she suddenly went limp. Not relaxing his hold of her, unsure whether her relaxed limbs were a ploy to get him to let her go, he tilted his head slightly trying to observe her. Her face was buried in his tunic, the wetness of his clothes confirming the scent of tears. She cried silently but hard.

Uncertain what to do, he lifted a hand to absently stroke her hair, before tuning his senses to the forest. They had not travelled far from the lakes edge, but he knew that where there was one orc, there was sure to be others. They hunted in packs, though the temptation of a vulnerable female had obviously lured one away from the others.

Lifting himself onto one elbow, still stroking Melissa's hair, he assessed they were not in any immediate danger, but knew they had to return to the relative safety of the camp as soon as possible. Melissa showed no sign of ceasing to cry, if anything she was becoming more emotional, her silent tears becoming frequently interspersed with sobs. He knew not what distressed her so much, but assumed that it had something to do with either the sexual attack or with the death itself. The expression of horror that she had sent his way probably indicated it was the latter.

Still murmuring words of comfort, he slowly sat up the awkwardly got to his feet, pulling her with him. Her face remained buried in his tunic, her fingers tightly holding onto the folds of the soft suede material it was made from. Keeping one arm around her, he cautiously drew one of his throwing knifes and again examined carefully the forest. His feeling of unease was increasing with each passing moment and he was certain that he and Melissa were being watched by something that meant them harm.

He started guiding her back towards the lake, mindful that her feet were hurt but aware he could not carry her and defend her if they were attacked. She made no protest, keeping her face hidden and beginning to sob so loudly that Legolas had difficulty listening to the sounds of the forest. Pausing, he shifted his arm from around her and tilted her wet face up so that she was forced to look at him. Her eyes were puffy and red, her skin pale and slightly blotchy. Her nose was running, and some of the earth of the forest floor was smeared across her forehead. She looked terrible, but oddly endearing.

Her eyes focused on him and she sniffed loudly. Bringing a finger to his lips, Legolas motioned for her to be quiet, before peering around the forest again. She caught on quickly, her face paling further, and she rubbed the tears from her eyes with the backs of her hands, before she too looked about herself in fear. Reaching down he gripped her slightly damp hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze, before pulling her towards the camp. She did not resist.

Legolas felt overwhelming relief as they broke through the trees and found Gimli standing alert by the campfire, his axe held firmly in his hands. The dwarf's eyes narrowed as he saw Melissa's pale tear marked face, and his knuckles whitened as they gripped his weapon tighter.

"Trouble?" he asked, his eyes glancing down to the woman's injured feet.

Melissa pulled her hand from Legolas' firm grip, and stumbled down to the lakes edge once again ignoring the elf's demands that she stop. Kneeling at the edge, she lifted a hand full of water to her face and began scrubbing where the orc had licked her. Sighing, Legolas allowed her to scrub the touch of the beast away from her skin.

"You were correct that we have company," he said briefly to Gimli, who, after a quick glance at Melissa, was now studying the forest.

"I hope you left some for me to slaughter," the dwarf snorted, "my axe is in danger of going rusty from being underused."

"My tally is one, friend dwarf," Legolas answered with a quick smile, before becoming sombre again, "It attacked Melissa, much to my shame. It was on its own, I saw no others but there is a dark foreboding feeling coming from the wood. We should leave now rather than risk another day."

Gimli nodded towards Melissa, who was still scrubbing her face.

"Is she up to it?" He asked, looking at her bleeding feet.

"I will help her if she is not," Legolas replied, turning to the camp.

With practised ease Gimli and Legolas quickly packed their belongings away. They travelled lightly, so it took little time, and by the time Melissa had finished washing her hands and face they were almost done. She hobbled back towards them in time to watch Gimli empty out the pot of stew he had taken pains over cooking. Gimli nodded to her, whilst juggling the hot empty pot from hand to hand before heading to the lakes edge to rinse it.

Legolas quickly took a pair of his leggings from his bag and, after sitting Melissa down on a rock, used one of his throwing knifes to cut the suede fabric into strips to bind her feet. He crouched before her as he worked, and once he had enough fabric, he stared up into her face assessing her emotional condition. She was very quiet and pale, her eyes still red from crying. Her face was calm, almost blank and the emotions that had clouded her eyes earlier were gone. He frowned, not liking how she managed to swallow up all the misery she had shown him she had hidden within.

"We must travel now," he said to her quietly, knowing that she couldn't understand what he said but needing to tell her just the same. "This place is not safe anymore."

He looked down at her feet and assessed the damage. She had a couple of small cuts, probably caused by sharp rocks, neither of which looked to have anything embedded in them. He would liked to have taken the time to thoroughly clean her feet before binding them, but they had not the time. Whispering an apology, he brushed her foot lightly, and was startled when she jerked back pulling her foot from his grasp. She made an odd sort of snorting sound and he realised that her feet were sensitive, ticklish in fact.

His lips pulled into a small smile as he once again apologised, capturing her foot again. She was tense, but appeared to be more concerned with him inadvertently tickling her again rather than her foot hurting. Such strange creatures these humans, he thought as he worked quickly to wrap one, then the other, in makeshift bandages that would act to protect the soles of her feet from further harm. Even in the midst of terror, they could find humour in the oddest of things.

Satisfied that the bindings would remain in place, Legolas examined Melissa's neck. Red marks from the Orc's hand adorned it that promised to bloom into bruises by the next day. Again Legolas felt anger at himself for allowing her to come to harm.

"Ready?" Gimli asked as he approached, his small backpack securely fastened to his back, and holding Legolas' pack out for the elf to take.

Legolas nodded, quickly pulling on the bag and scanning the edge of the forest. There was no sign of danger, but still the elf felt ill at ease. Gimli felt it too; he could tell from the dwarf's rigid stance and ill hidden eagerness to fight. And Legolas could not blame him. If Melissa were not with them, dwarf and elf would have entered the wood with the express purpose of tracking down the Orcs and slaughtering them. They did not have that choice with her in their company. She was too inexperienced, too vulnerable to take hunting. They needed to flee and it didn't sit well with either male.

Melissa was looking from Gimli to Legolas, then to her feet and the campsite. Legolas could tell she understood that they were leaving, but her half hidden glances towards the lake showed him that she was nervous about leaving what was possibly the only way back to where she had come from. Gimli saw her hesitation too and sought to alleviate her worries.

"Don't worry lass," he said awkwardly patting her on the shoulder, "We can bring you back here if there is the need. We know where it is."

Melissa frowned, not understanding but seeming to realise that the dwarf was offering her comfort. Standing up she winced a little as she put her weight on her damaged feet, but then nodded to Gimli and gave him a small smile. They stood still for a moment, in an odd triangle that suddenly reminded Legolas of the fellowship and the time of the three hunters; man, elf and dwarf. Gimli seemed to feel it two for both males glanced at each other, while Melissa stared at them impatiently.

Rolling her eyes at the delay, she moved away from the group walking in completely the wrong direction. Legolas, smiling, once again claimed her hand and turned her in the direction they needed to travel. And thus began their journey to Rivendell.

Melissa was furious with herself. The sight of the dead man has scared her. It had reminded her of events that she didn't want to relive and she had made a complete and utter fool of herself trying to run away from them. She had wound herself up so much that in her hysterical flight she had half convinced herself that Legolas would shoot an arrow into her to stop her and she really hadn't cared. In fact, she almost welcomed the idea. Death was much preferable to all the traumatic thoughts welling up, threatening to drown her.

But he hadn't. Instead, he had grabbed her close and held her in a tight embrace, as a parent would a child having a tantrum. And in the comfort of his touch she had broken down and wept. And once she started, she found it difficult to stop. It was his warning to be quiet, and his eyes carefully watching the forest that had shaken her from her sudden depression. The idea that she was endangering not just herself by her actions, but Legolas and Gimli too, had been like a slap. She had swallowed down her feelings, like she had done so many times before, but this time it was a little easier. The tears she had cried made her grief fit easier within herself. She did not feel quite so bloated and cold with it as once she did.

She had washed her face when they returned to camp conscious that Legolas and Gimli talked about her. She listened carefully to Legolas' tone, eager, almost expectant of derision in his voice. But she hadn't detected any. All she heard was his calm low voice, and Gimli's equally calm reply. It was almost as if nothing had happened, except that when they finished talking, they instantly moved to break camp.

They were concerned that there were more men in the woods intent on doing her harm. Or perhaps the man had tried to harm her because she was with them? She really didn't know. What she did know, however, was that she was going to co-operate with Legolas and Gimli fully. Her stupidity had made Legolas kill another living being and she would not be the cause of him killing more.

And so she found herself walking, well hobbling, between the two men. Gimli was in the lead, his axe drawn, and Legolas followed behind, his bow held loosely in his hands. They walked slowly and she knew instinctively that it was for her benefit. She tried to walk faster, knowing that they were keen to get as far away from the campsite and from the lake as quickly as possible but couldn't keep up the pace for very long.

Her feet hurt. The material wrapped around them was supposed to help protect them, but offered little support and she felt every stone, every stick, every sharp prickle she walked on. Never before had she missed shoes as much as she did now. The thought of the comfort of training shoes with their wonderfully cushioned insoles taunted her and she desperately tried to think of anything else other than her feet. And the danger they were in.

The woods were extensive, but after a couple of hours walking, the trees began to thin and the warm sunshine began to filter through the leaves making her feel more cheerful. Her companions became more relaxed as they left the shelter of the woods and emerged onto open hills. Walking became easier for her - the grass was springy under her feet, although Legolas and Gimli kept the pace slow.

The countryside surprised her. Miles and miles of emptiness, with no sign of electricity poles to clutter up the vista. The quietness was almost overpowering. Whenever she had visited the countryside in the past she had always been conscious of the drone of distant traffic, or the buzz of aircraft flying overhead. Here there was nothing other than the sound of the wind and birds. The oddity of it all made her nervous and she yearned to fill the silence of their trek with conversation or music - anything to fill the void.

As soon as they had emerged from the trees, Legolas had slung his bow over his back and begun walking beside her rather than the, she supposed, protective position of being behind her. She knew he was watching her closely and was determined to control any expression of the discomfort that she felt during their trek. The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was a complete flake because she wasn't. In her own world she held her own. She had a successful career…well, had.

Melissa couldn't control the sigh that bubbled up and over spilt as she considered that perhaps she was considerably more flakey than she had previously imagined. She felt Legolas glance at her again and lowered her head so that he would not be able to see her face. Desperate to distract him from his assessment of her, she stooped and plucked a blade of grass from the ground. Twirling, she held it more or less under his nose.

"Grass," she announced, before walking on, risking a quick glance at him.

Legolas had a surprised look on his face, which was quite satisfying. Tapping Gimli on the shoulder, she waved the blade of grass under his nose too.

"Grass," she repeated, looking at the shorter man expectantly.

Gimli peered at the grass, and shared a tortured look with Legolas before repeating the word back to her, then saying what Melissa hoped was the word for grass in his language. Smiling she repeated it back to him, before pointing at another bit of nature and exchanging words. What better way to keep herself distracted from her self-pity than attempting to learn a new language. It was just a shame that she had never managed to learn another language before, despite numerous attempts. She hoped to God that she had better success this time.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

In retrospect even four days travel was an overly optimistic estimate of the time it would take them to reach Rivendell; the pace which Melissa set meant that it would take them closer to seven before they saw the beautiful spires of the Last Homely House. Legolas did not begrudge Melissa the extra time it took them to complete their journey. Indeed, considering the state of her feet and her overall physical weakness, he believed that they made very good time.

Her mental stability worried both him and Gimli as they travelled. At times she would be overly exuberant, keen to learn new words and try to begin to communicate properly with her travelling companions. At other times she would close herself off, her eyes would be distant and cold and she would refuse to talk for hours. Occasionally she would become grumpy and Legolas could only imagine what the tart words spilling from her tongue meant; indeed he was pleased not to know.

Legolas ruthlessly taught Melissa new words in an effort to improve her ability to communicate, and to distract her from the journey. She wasn't a fast learner. He was blessed with elfin memory and only had to hear a word once from her lips to remember it. She required frequent reminding and often walked reciting great lists of words that she sometimes got right but often got wrong. She became confused at simple things, such as Legolas being an elf and Gimli being a dwarf and Legolas suspected that she had not encountered their races before.

By the end of the fifth day she was exhausted and their supply of lembas was gone. There was no sign that the Orcs were pursuing them, but Legolas could not free himself of the feeling that they were constantly being watched. Gimli shared his concern and never let his axe leave his hands as they walked.

They set up camp early, before the sun had sunk below the mountains that marked their destination, Gimli eager to hunt for red meat to fill their aching bellies. Melissa seemed not even to have the energy to help gather firewood, and Legolas observed her closely as she sank to the ground, his cloak pulled tightly around her body. Every time they had made camp before she had sought out water to wash her face, her body, even her hair, much to Gimli's disgust. But tonight it seemed her energy was spent and she did not seek to groom herself. Her face was thinner than when she first appeared, she looked almost resigned. The curiosity that she had at first displayed for her surroundings had gone, and Legolas disliked that her eyes were no longer full of life.

He made the fire quickly, hoping that the warmth of the flames would revive her somewhat, but still she sat quietly, eyes focused on nothing in particular. Finally, Legolas could stand no more. He crouched beside her.

"Come, let me tend your feet," he said in common, then repeated it as best he could in her tongue.

She sighed deeply, her eyes flicking down to her feet crossed in front of her. She had been looking after her battered feet till now, soaking them at every opportunity when they camped at night, and wrapping them in the morning with more cloth provided by Legolas.

"No, they are good," she said quietly in common, her pronunciation mangling the words. "I sleep."

She rolled up on her side, drawing her knees up to her chest so that his cloak covered her legs.

"You need to eat," Legolas admonished and she closed her eyes.

She shook her head. "Eat no," she replied. "Sleep."

Legolas watched her intently, uncomfortable that she neglected her hygiene. He reached down to shake her, to encourage her to wake up, but as soon as his hand touched her shoulder, she lifted a lethargic hand to bat his away. She then spoke an extremely rude phrase in common with perfect pronunciation requesting that he leave her alone and do something rather rude with his own anatomy, before huddling up once again.

Stunned, Legolas blinked, then grimaced as he realised that Gimli must have been teaching the mortal woman some more than inappropriate phrases. A muffled snort from the dwarf himself confirmed this and Legolas looked up to see Gimli approach with a couple of fine rabbits that he had already skinned and cleaned.

"Exactly how did you manage to teach her to say that so well?" Legolas demanded, uncertain whether to be impressed at the Dwarf's teaching ability or depressed at his own lack of success in getting her to say anything correctly.

"Melissa seems to have a natural affinity for cursing," Gimli chuckled as he set about threading the rabbits onto sticks to place across the fire and roast. He peered at her a couple of times as he worked, then nodded to Legolas, "She looks ill."

Legolas turned to the woman again and examined her. She did look pale and a little hot, her skin glowing with a slight sheen. Cautiously, Legolas reached down to her again, this time placing her fingers on her forehead. Frowning, he nodded to Gimli.

"She has a slight fever," he said, before trying to lift the cloak to check her feet for signs of infection.

Melissa sat bolt upright at the first touch of his hand on her leg and once again batted his hand away, her face creasing up into a scowl as she told him clearly to have sexual intercourse with a sheep. Legolas blinked again, and stared pointedly at Gimli who was doing a very bad job at trying to keep a straight face.

"Melissa," Legolas said with as much patience as he could muster after being insulted twice in ten minutes, "Do not speak so."

She shrugged, her expression clearly one of 'whatever', and attempted to roll herself up in a ball again, but this time Legolas caught hold of her and kept her sitting upright. He pointed to her feet.

"I need to clean your feet," he said in her language, repeating it in common out of habit.

She frowned again.

"One day," she said, rubbing her eyes, "head sore. Sleep."

"Later," Legolas corrected, "not 'one day'. And no, not later, now."

Ignoring her protests, he grabbed a leg firmly and began to unwind the wrapping. She wriggled, attempting to pull her foot away, half-laughing, half-scolding in her own tongue. Despite her feet being so battered they were, apparently, still ticklish. By the time he had pulled the fabric away from her foot, however, she was half sobbing as the material stuck to open blisters and infected cuts. She swore again in her own tongue as he finished, his own name being mentioned several times.

"Bet yer pleased you don't understand what she is telling you to do this time, laddie." Gimli grinned as he turned the rabbits on the fire to stop them charring.

Leglolas smiled faintly and captured the woman's other foot.

"No!" she cried out, trying to roll push him away as he began to unwind the material.

He smirked at her feeble attempts, eager to get the wrappings off so her feet could be cleaned thoroughly as the wounds on her feet were apparently the cause of her fever. She attempted to kick him with her free foot, but he caught her ankle easily, and turning his back to her he tucked her foot under his arm to keep her from harming herself in her attempt to get free. Her curses became louder as he continued to unwind the bandage and then sudden excruciating pain froze him as she captured his ear and twisted it. Gimli winced at the pain that was evident of his friend's face, but watched the proceedings with some amusement.

"Stop!" they both demanded at the same time, him peering at her over his shoulder and she glaring at him as she sat half reclined on the ground.

The pain was enough to make his eyes water and very slowly he let go of his grip on her feet. Correspondingly she let her grip on his ear reduce until it was merely painful.

"Melissa…" Legolas said quietly as he raised his hands to allow her legs to come free of his restraining grip, "This is not helpful…"

Pulling her legs back under her cloak, Melissa released her grip on the elf's ear before wagging her finger up and down under his nose and made a lewd comment in perfect dwarf with regard to Legolas' parentage. Rolling his eyes, Legolas turned to stare pointedly at Gimli who had the grace to blush.

"Erm…foods just about done!" Gimli commented, pulling one of the rabbits from the fire and holding it out towards Melissa.

Melissa stared at him, then the rabbit, and then turned a rather nasty grey colour. She got to her feet, hobbled a few paces then fell to her feet and began to retch. Legolas grimaced and rubbed his ear as he observed her before he became aware that their company was no longer alone. Gracefully getting to his feet, he frowned into the distance before moving to stand beside the still heaving woman trying to with hold the very unelf like groan that threatened to spill from his throat at the thought of who had observed a mortal woman getting the best of him.

Could this day get any worse?

Melissa felt disgustingly woozy. Her head hurt, her feet hurt, and now, due to massive amounts of dry retching, her stomach hurt. Why the hell couldn't Legolas just let her sleep, rather than attempt to fiddle with her feet? All she wanted was to rest, was that so much to ask for? Apparently it was as the stupid blond Adonis just wouldn't leave her alone.

Sure, he was probably trying to be helpful, but she knew her wrappings needed to be soaked off rather than pulled. But would he listen? No. Twisting his ear and using some of the very interesting sounding phrases that Gimli had taught her seemed to work a treat though. Certainly the ear twisting had caught his attention and he had freed her fairly quickly. He had given her such a disappointed look though, which did give a moment of guilt. Well, until the next throb of pain in her foot happened, and then she decided he could choke to death for all she cared.

Another wave of nausea hit her and she dry retched again, her fingers clawing into the dirt, knees hurting, head bowed. Nothing was coming up. Hell, she hadn't eaten anything substantial for days so it was unsurprising nothing was coming up. Except, apparently, her entire stomach, which was making a bid for freedom along with her liver and spleen from the feel of things.

She was aware that Legolas was standing along side her, and from the smell of things Gimli too. But she was too weak to bother with them. Well, apart from hurl the last one of Gimli's phrases at both of them, together with one she made up off the fly pertaining to them smelling like urine (it was amazing just how many ways she could actually use the words she had memorised).

Laughter greeted her curses. Unfamiliar laughter. Wincing, she lifted her head slightly to see a number of horses' hoofs (with legs attached) fairly near to her. She had been so taken with trying to turn her body inside out she had completely missed that they had company. She lifted her head further, despite the ache in her entire damn body, and tried to focus on the new arrivals. They were as slender and beautiful as Legolas. A mixture of dark haired and fair haired men, all with locks hanging down around their shoulders, knotted in tiny plaits at the front like Legolas, all immaculately dressed and perfect. All laughing.

Peering up at Legolas she saw that he hadn't drawn his bow so she took this to be a good thing. Gimli looked a little uncomfortable as the newcomers began to speak, but she couldn't blame him. With so many hotties around it would be tough being the only short squat smelly hairy man. Well apart from her, that was.

Melissa lowered her head and swallowed down another round of nausea before lifting her head an attempting to stand. Legolas and Gimli instantly grabbed an arm each and helped her stand straight, and then continued to support her as she wavered on her legs. She was so very cold and tired. All she wanted to do was huddle up in front of the fire and sleep, yet it seemed that fate was throwing one distraction after another in her way.

The newcomers were speaking in a language that was not familiar to her. It did not seem to be the same as the language that Legolas was teaching her. It flowed and danced out of the men's mouths, musical and relaxing. She closed her eyes and felt it wrap around her and was comforted by it. And then she realised something she had missed and her eyes snapped open again and she peered closely at the men newly arrived.

Every one of them had strangely pointed ears just as Legolas did and as Gimli did not. So perhaps Legolas' ears were not some horrible birth defect after all, but rather it signified his race. Suddenly the irritation that Gimli had showed at her not understanding certain words that he had attempted to teach her when he pointed at himself and Legolas made sense.

She elbowed Legolas lightly in the ribs and he looked down at her, his brows furrowing.

She pointed at him.

"Elf." She said in the language that he had been teaching her. She then pointed at the new comers. "Elf," she repeated. Then she pointed at Gimli "Dwarf," she said. Legolas smiled at her and nodded. She pointed at herself, "Dwarf?" she questioned.

The elfin men all burst into laughter, as did Gimli. Legolas fought to keep a smile from his face, but did not succeed too well and shook his head.

"No," he said, "Human."

"Human," she repeated, wondering just how many different races they had and whether human meant girl. Needing clarification, she pointed at her chest, "Human?" she repeated.

Laughter stopped, and funnily enough all the men now had their eyes on her chest. Probably because her cloak had come open when she had been trying to vomit her spine out, and her top was also fairly baggy showing more cleavage than she would generally like to show, and because the men in this particular reality seemed fascinated by boobs. Grimacing, she pulled her cloak over her chest and peered up at Legolas, whose ears had once again gone a funny pink colour.

"Female human," he responded, his words a little hesitant.

She nodded and felt her head spin and instantly wished she hadn't. Her legs went strangely floppy underneath her and she suddenly found herself only upright because Gimli and Legolas were holding her arms. Her cloak gaped open again and she suddenly didn't really care whether they all stared at her chest or not because she was in serious need of lying down before all the little black dots in front on her eyes joined hands.

She felt herself be eased down to a seated position, and automatically put her head between her knees to encourage the blood flow to her brain. She had never actually fainted, but had gone to school with a girl who was prone to fainting at the drop of a hat. The cure had always been to hold her head down between her knees until she could stand again.

Blinking, Melissa became aware that the ever so pretty new elves were off their horses and standing around her, and one had crouched beside her and was offering her a flask of something. Looking at it, her stomach instantly rebelled and she shook her head, but the dark haired elf kept waving it under her nose.

"Oh, for the love of…" she muttered, batting his hand away, "why cant you people leave me to sleep!" she demanded in her own language.

Legolas murmured something in the lovely comforting language that the other elf men spoke in and took the flask from the dark haired elf, who crouched back in front of her and stared at her.

"Melissa, drink," Legolas encouraged using her own language, and she peered at him as he held the flask once again out to her. "Good drink" he said, smiling slightly at her unsure look.

She frowned. Maybe if she took a sip of their drink they would leave her all alone to just sleep her headache away, so she nodded consent and took the flask from Legolas with shaking hands and raised it to her mouth. The fluid wasn't water, and it wasn't wine, but it was something with quite a punch to it. Trying to lower the flask after one sip, she found Legolas and taken hold of it and forced her to take a couple of mouthfuls before he allowed it to be lowered.

The fluid burned her throat as she felt it descend to her stomach and she glared at Legolas who was handing it back to the dark haired elf who was now peering at her feet, his fingers edging towards her still wrapped one.

Spluttering a couple of choice curses she had learned from the teenage sons of one of her neighbours, she pulled her legs back away from the dark elf and glared at Legolas before her limbs decided that they weren't going to follow the orders of her brain anymore.

"What the hell was in that flask?" she demanded, or rather slurred, as she slumped sideways into Gimli's beard, which apparently still contained food from a couple of days ago. Gimli, face going a little pink, helped lay her back on the ground and patted her hand as she closed her eyes to try and stop the world spinning.

She felt hands on her legs again, and kicked, then sobbed at the pain that the impact of her soles onto something hard gave her. Opening one eye to squint she was mildly satisfied to see that the dark elf was now on his posterior on the ground with a slightly startled expression on his face.

"Just leave me alone!" she growled, struggling to sit up again trying to ignore the spiking pains in her head.

Legolas took the opportunity of her being half up, to slide his body behind her, then wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her back into his lap. Her arms imprisoned she could do nothing more than peer up at him and repeat one of the phrases that she had used earlier, frustrated that she was not being original. He gave her a pained expression, then began to run his fingers through her hair in an attempt to calm her as the dark elf once again attacked her foot.

The sensation of fingers running over her scalp was almost hypnotising, and instantly she felt her nausea and her headache begin to abate. She bit her lip as the last of the wrappings came off, and Legolas bent his mouth down to her ear and whispered soft words in the delightful sing song speech that he used with his own race. Her eyelids drooped, and even the faint stinging of her soles being washed and ointment being lathered into her cuts couldn't detract from him mesmerising voice. The flask was once more pressed to her lips, and she drank reluctantly before dropping into a deep and blessedly dream free sleep


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

It was with no small amount of relief that Legolas felt Melissa slip off into a deep sleep in his arms. He had feared that he would have to physically restrain her before she would allow her feet to be tended, but it seemed that the liquor that Elrohir had given her had tipped her over into the sleep that she so desperately needed. But not, however, before she had managed to insult him yet a further time, this time in the presence of the Lord of Imladris.

Elrohir was concentrating on Melissa's feet, smearing a healing salve into her damaged soles with the confident air of a healer. He had, along with his brother, been apprentice to Lord Elrond for many centuries and Lord Elrond had saved many lives that would have been lost if not for his extraordinary skills. Finishing his task, Elrohir moved his gaze to Melissa's face and lightly touched her brow. A small smile touched his lips as he looked up to Legolas.

"The woman has a fever, but it is light and will pass as her feet heal," he said.

Legolas nodded, shifting himself so he could lower the now deeply sleeping Melissa to the ground, firmly tucking in his cloak around her when she started to shiver. Glancing up at Elrohir he frowned to see a distinct dirt footprint staining the Elf Lords otherwise pristine jerkin.

"My apologies for her behaviour," Legolas inclined his head to emphasise his regret that Elrohir had been kicked.

Elrohir chuckled as he wiped his hands clean of the salve that he had rubbed into the mortal's feet.

"A distinct streak of temper and a tongue to match," he smiled, turning to his horse and opening a pouch that hung from the saddle.

"Regretfully, Gimli has been teaching her phrases that I would prefer she did not know," Legolas cast a quick glance of disapproval in the direction of the dwarf, who sniffed first in disgust and then more deeply in surprise and rushed to the fire to rescue the remaining rabbits. "Melissa speaks in a language I know not. She appears to be a stranger to this land." Legolas continued.

Elrohir raised an eyebrow as he pulled a length of cloth from his bag before spilling water from a water skin all over it. Squeezing the excess out, he began to fold it, before crouching beside Melissa and placing it across her forehead.

"A stranger to this land," he mused quietly, studying the sleeping woman closely. "Tell me more."

The sun had set on the camp before Legolas had finished his tale, Elrohir and his band listening carefully to his words as they sat and shared an evening meal over the cheerful campfire. Gimli would grunt occasionally supporting a statement that Legolas made, but for the most part he sat distant from the others, uncomfortable and stiff. Legolas regretted the dwarf's inability to relax amongst his kinsmen, and that his kinsmen treated him with a polite indifference, but he knew Gimli was used to such behaviour from the elves. Long had Dwarfs and Elves disagreed and it was a minor miracle to see both species shared one campfire.

Legolas enjoyed telling the story of Melissa and felt relaxed in the knowledge that the camp was well guarded and watched by his kinfolk. For the first time since Melissa had appeared in the middle of that cold lake he felt at peace and it refreshed him more than sleep could. Elrohir nodded as the story came to an end and moved to refresh the cloth that lay on the woman's brow; the heat of her skin having dried it.

She murmured in her sleep as he smoothed her hair back and examined her face, speaking in her slightly odd language. Elrohir raised a brow and looked to Legolas.

"Know you what she says?" he asked.

Legolas shook his head regretfully. "I have tried to learn her language as we have walked, and know enough to communicate basic ideas with her, but of what she speaks now I have no knowledge".

Elrohir nodded, his fingers tracing across her brow, and closed his eyes as his fingers remained on her temples. Melissa frowned as he did so, and Elrohir's own brow creased into a frown that mirrored hers. She began to mumble, her head twisting slightly, but Elrohir kept his fingers in contact with her skin, lightly following her movements. She spoke a couple of phrases, her brow creasing further and her breathing quickening as if she was about to wake.

"Rest easy, sleep," Elrohir murmured to her, lifting his fingers from her brow and opening his eyes. His frown remained and he looked up at Legolas. "She is in great turmoil," he said, "But I cannot discover more than how deep her unhappiness is."

Legolas nodded, once again pulling his cloak around her as Elrohir replaced the damp cloth on her forehead.

"Rest easy, friend," Elrohir smiled, "We shall discover the reason behind her being here and, if possible, return her to whence she came."

Legolas nodded, reassured by Elrohir's calmness. No longer did he appear to be the mischievous elf he once was, but had matured into the leader his birth had destined him for. He could see in his bearing and speech traces of Elrond and Legolas found it comforting like old aged wine.

"And if we cannot, then I'm sure we will learn much from her. At least, I'm sure I will learn some new curses that I can use on Elladan", Elrohir's eyes glittered with amusement. "Teach me what you know of her language."

Perhaps not so mature, Legolas thought trying not to snort like Gimli did.

The stars spun slowly across the night sky as elves talked quietly about the past and the present, refreshing themselves with tales of old and deeds new, whilst Legolas recited words that Elrohir dutifully repeated. Gimli succumbed to sleep, rolling backward mid sentence and snoring loudly into the night. Melissa slept on, her sleep aided by Elrohir's brew, her fever staying with her but growing no worse.

Satisfied that she would sleep through the night and would suffer no lasting harm from missing the nourishment of one meal, Legolas sought out the reason why Elrohir and his band were patrolling so far out from Rivendell.

"Orcs have been gathering," Elrohir's voice was grim, his hatred for the species well known and understood. They had stolen his mother from him, and her horror of what had befallen her had forced her to leave Middle Earth long before her appointed time. "Small numbers, but they seem full of intent," he continued, "Their purpose is as yet unknown. We ride the borders and it was by chance that we saw you here."

"We were most fortunate that you found us," Legolas nodded, "Our pace was slow due to her lack of stamina."

"And clothing," Elrohir smirked slightly, observing that Legolas flushed a little at the mention of her state of dress. He then frowned, "I wonder if the appearance of this Lady has something to do with the gathering of Orcs?"

Legolas raised an eyebrow in surprise and shook his head.

"There is no evil in her, of this I am sure," he stated gazing at Elrohir intently.

Elrohir nodded absently.

"But there is much despair…" he continued softly, before casting his eyes to the heavens to watch the dawning of a new day.

Melissa woke up in slow muzzy stages. She was aware that she was not one hundred percent by the way her head felt several time larger than its normal size, and that she was extremely sweaty. Cracking one eye open she blinked against strong sunlight, before groaning and pulling her cloak up over her face. Sniffing several times, she yanked it down again deciding that her head would just have to cope with sunshine because her nose couldn't cope with her body odour.

She closed her eyes again, a hand lifting to shade herself from the sunlight, and her ears began to pick up noises from the camp in which she rested. She could detect flames causing wood to crackle, she could hear Gimli humming as he sharpened a blade. She could hear Legolas speaking in his wonderfully melodic language, and others responding in a similar tongue. Lowering her hand, she recalled that a band of extremely presentable elves had turned up last night and apparently they weren't the result of her fevered imagination.

Opening her eyes again, she lifted her head cautiously, nervous that it would begin to pound again, and found herself staring up at a dark haired elf who was kneeling beside her observing her with a smile.

"Good morning, Melissa," he said in perfect English.

Melissa blinked. For a moment she dared hope that this elf knew her language, knew how she got here and could aid her in returning. She sat up straight, ignoring her protesting head and achy limbs and had begun to smile broadly before she saw Legolas crouch beside the dark elf and give her a reassuring smile. Then she realised that Legolas had probably shared what little knowledge he had of her language and that she was still very much lost.

"Morning…" she replied in the language that Legolas had been teaching her. She noticed the dark elf wince slightly at her pronunciation.

"I am Elrohir," the elf continued in English.

Great. Another difficult to pronounce name. She mentally rolled it around in her mouth a couple of times before attempting to spit it out. Again, he winced at her pronunciation.

Legolas smiled faintly and repeated it several times slowly, nodding at her in an encouraging manner until she said it to both his and Elrohir's satisfaction.

"Morning Elrohir," she said in her own language, "Keep your hands off my feet." She had watching his keen eyes wandering down towards her battered feet and knew that he was itching to poke at them. "I need to wash."

He grinned at her, while Legolas frowned.

"Elrohir is …" he frowned as he tried to think of a word. She suddenly felt grumpy, her head hurting more, and had little patience for word games.

"A doctor, a medic, a healer, a nurse, a first-aider…." Melissa mumbled slowly getting to her feet, wincing as her tender soles stretched with her weight. Elrohir moved to help her, but Legolas, sensitive to her mood stayed back and so was spared the irritated shove that the dark haired elf received. "I'm ok, I just need to go wash…"

Pulling the cloak close to her body, she peered around until she identified where the river was, then began to hobble towards it, ignoring the longsuffering look in Legolas' eyes and that Elrohir followed her closely. The river was a shallow one and Melissa could see no pools in which she could immerse herself. Gritting her teeth as the rounded stones that marked the bank bruised her feet further, she edged her way into the water, her breath hissing at the coldness of the water as it pulled at her calves.

Looking up she noted how close the mountains were, and that the tops were blanketed in snow. The river in which she paddled was most likely sourced from snowmelt and she knew she couldn't stay in long. Pulling the cloak from her shoulders, she glanced around to see both Legolas and Elrohir standing just behind her apparently ignoring the fact that their boots were getting wet from the fast moving water. Shaking her head slowly, she threw her cloak to Legolas, who effortlessly caught it, before she crouched down in the water, scooping up handfuls to wet her face, and her armpits.

The iciness of the water didn't help her mood. She wanted a hot bath more than almost anything in the world. And bath oils. And a fluffy towel. And some toothpaste. And chocolate. Lots and lots of chocolate.

"Oh God, I'm PMSing" she breathed, and placing her hands flat against the bottom of the river for balance, she plunged her head into the water and held it there as she counted to ten.

She never wanted chocolate unless she was pre-menstrual. And if her period started whilst she was travelling she wasn't sure she would stay sane. Lifting her head from the water, she felt suddenly dizzy as the coldness of the river pinched her brain and made her head throb. Tilting to one side, she felt a hand grab her arm and lift her upright, steadying her before arms lifted her, tossing her body over a hard shoulder.

Elrohir stared at her from where he stood in the river, before Legolas turned around and carried her back to the campfire. She had no energy left to grumble at him, instead meekly draped herself against him and wondered despairingly if they had anything remotely like tampons in this world. Or paracetamol for the inevitable cramps.

Legolas set her down carefully, once again placing the cloak around her shoulders, and hesitantly pushing her wet hair out of her eyes. He stared at her and she knew he was confused by her rather dramatic mood swings, but she had no energy or desire to try and explain why she was so up and down. Elrohir crouched at her feet and once again began to rub salve into her soles. Her feet were so cold that his fingers seemed to scold her skin, but she felt too miserable to pull away.

How was she to survive this world?

A bowl of meaty stew was waved under her nose, dirt-encrusted fingers holding the container carefully, as it was full to the brim. Raising her eyes from the food, Melissa saw Gimli standing there, a wooden spoon grasped in his other hand.

"Eat," he commanded, glaring at her.

Her stomach rumbled at the smells wafting up from the stew as she eyed it closely. It looked more palatable than anything the dwarf had made before and she raised an eyebrow wondering if he had made it or if it had been concocted by one of the elves that were wandering around the camp. Hesitantly she lifted her hands and accepted the bowl, sniffing the stew carefully. It was probably rabbit, but she didn't know for sure and in truth she really didn't want to know. Dipping the wooden spoon into the mix, she carefully lifted a small measure to her mouth and, trying to ignore the disconcerting feeling of eating from a wooden utensil, tasted it.

It was extraordinarily nice. Eyes widening a little, she raised a larger portion and chewed it carefully, closing her eyes as it warmed her stomach.

"Elves with good looks and the ability to cook," she murmured to herself, "Perhaps I am in heaven after all."

Gimli snorted and she opened her eyes to see him watching her with a somewhat huffy expression on his face and she knew that he was grumpy that she was eating something the elves had prepared when she had refused to eat anything he had. She gave him a wistful half-apologetic smile.

"Its helpful that it doesn't look like rabbit," she said with her mouth full, then tried to tell him in a language that he understood. "Rabbit no, good." She tried.

Gimli raised and eyebrow and turned to point to a skin that she hadn't previously noticed.

"No rabbit," he said gruffly, "deer."

Melissa choked on her mouthful, recognising the skin to belong to a fawn. Dropping the spoon and looking disgusted, she held her half eaten bowl up for Gimli to take away.

"Oh God, I've eaten Bambi," she groaned.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight.

Legolas watched silently as Elrohir gave his second in command instructions to continue the sweep of Rivendell's borders for orc activity. The dark elf had decided it would be best if his band split up, with himself returning to Rivendell with the mortal and her travelling companions, whilst the rest of the party would continue with the task assigned them. The guard could spare no horses, other than the one that Elrohir rode, but that would be enough to see that Melissa managed to make her destination without damaging her feet further.

Elrohir looked calm at his decision to leave his men, but Legolas knew that he was not entirely comfortable. Elrohir was a born leader and would be concerned for his guards until they returned safely to Rivendell. Not even the prospect of being reunited with his twin would drive that worry from his eyes.

The guard was, however, an experienced band of elves, even if they were relatively young for their kind. They had all fought in the War of the Ring, and still had the desire for adventure and battle. Their time in Middle Earth was drawing to a close and soon they would make the trip to the Havens and the lands beyond, but not yet. Elrohir knew that for all their brashness, they would act appropriately if they encountered orcs. If they were outnumbered, they would retreat and seek additional troops. If they were not outnumbered, they would slaughter any foul creature who dared to step foot on Rivendell land.

Legolas inclined his head slightly to the elves as they mounted their horses and bade their leader farewell. His warrior half yearned to follow, eager to once again battle, fingers itching to make his bow sing with arrows of death. But it was not to be this time. He glanced over to where Melissa sat by the now extinguished campfire, absently pulling on the bindings on her feet whilst she watched the elven warriors ride away.

The mortal took priority over battles and the mystery surrounding her promised more excitement than the slaying of orcs. From the speculative look in Elrohir's eyes as he turned to look at the woman, the dark elf thought the same. A soft, secretive smile stole across Legolas' face as he watched Elrohir turn to call his horse over. For one who had lived as long as he had, the fact that Middle Earth still had surprises in store was remarkably refreshing. Whilst he felt the call of the sea, he would continue to ignore it for as long as this land proved to be so interesting.

Gimli was looking less than happy as Elrohir rubbed the neck of his horse fondly. Whilst the dwarf could ride, he disliked to do so and would avoid it at any opportunity. Legolas' smile broadened as he slapped the dwarf on the shoulder and bent to whisper in his ear.

"No horse for you, Master Dwarf!"

Gimli looked immediately relieved and then, realizing his friend was laughing at him, puffed up and stroked his beard, "Damn elves could have spared another so we all could ride to Rivendell!" he bluffed.

Elrohir raised an eyebrow. "I can call them back and get another if you wish?" he said, turning to look at the troupe that as not yet out of sight.

Gimli's eyes widened. "No, no, no!" he said rapidly, "Not necessary! Dwarfs are very fast on their feet; I won't slow you down. Those lads need their horses more than I…" he trailed off as he realized that both Legolas and Elrohir were laughing at him. "Very funny!" he humphed, glaring at them both through bushy eyebrows.

Legolas, still smiling, turned to Melissa who had stood up as the other elves had disappeared and who was now looking in his direction expectantly. Her face still glowed with the fever that persisted, despite the salve that had been used to treat her feet, but Elrohir was not overly concerned. Legolas knew that humans were vulnerable to infection, indeed he had known of strong and hardy warriors felled by the smallest of wounds that had festered without proper care. He was determined to watch Melissa closely to make sure that she did not share that fate.

Pointing to the horse, he used the words that she had used when first they had met, when she had mimicked such a beast.

"Melissa ride Elrohir's horse," he said, watching her to see whether she understood.

She nodded as Elrohir led the horse closer to her so she could mount without walking, her teeth worrying her lower lip as she peered at the horse somewhat nervously. Turning towards Legolas she looked a little apologetic.

"I've never ridden a horse" she said glancing towards the animal again, and grimacing slightly as the animal picked up on her nervousness and snorted.

Legolas concentrated on her words, and reading her body language guessed that her words meant that she was a novice when it came to horse riding. He held out a hand and took hold of her cold one, pulling her closer to the animal. He felt her resist, her muscles tightening as she began to pull away, but he refused to let her go and instead pressed her hand firmly against the horses neck, and encouraged her to stroke the animal, guiding her hand so that she touched it with enough pressure so as not to tickle the horse.

Gradually, he released his hand from hers, whilst whispering elfish words of encouragement in her ear, praising her bravery as she continued to stroke the horse on her own. She began to smile, her nervousness abating as her fingers became used to the silky feeling of the horse's hide. Legolas moved slowly away from her allowing her space and time to become familiar with the animal she would soon ride.

Elrohir watched on with Gimli, before nudging the dwarf and commenting that at least one of their party seemed to be successful at getting rid of their fear of horses.

Gimli snorted. "She isn't upon the beast yet, laddie," he snorted, hefting the pack on his back, causing iron pots to clatter.

The horse startled by the sudden sound shied and snorted, its eyes rolling around seeking the source of the noise. Melissa gave a little gasp of surprise and stumbled back but was prevented from falling by Legolas swiftly taking hold of her arm to steady her.

Gimli froze realizing his actions were causing the horse to react, a grimace on his face as he faced twin scowls of Legolas and Elrohir.

"Ooops, " he murmured, and edged back slowly, "Sorry lass!"

With a soft command from Elrohir, the horse settled down once more, and Legolas again pulled Melissa to the stead. He repeated the words of encouragement he used before, and was pleased to see that Melissa did not hesitate to touch the horse this time, understanding that it had reacted to noise.

She titled her head to look up at the back of the horse, then whispered to Legolas, "Too tall!"

He grinned.

"No," he said in her language, "Not too tall, not too short."

She raised an eyebrow and said in her language, "Just right?"

He grinned and repeated it as a statement assuming that she meant that the words meant that the horse was the correct size for her. He watched as she nodded at his reply, her eyes going again to the horses back and obviously wondering how she was supposed to get up onto its back. He reached his arms around her waist, and, after her initial jerk of surprise, lifted her carefully grimacing a little at her weight. Though she had lost weight since she arrived at the lake, she was still no slender elf maiden and it took a good deal of effort for him to smoothly lift and place her on the back of the horse.

Letting his hands slide down to her thighs Legolas waited as she found her balance, whilst Elrohir spoke to his horse instructing it to stand still as she settled herself. Melissa twisted so that her torso was facing forward, then, leaning back, pulled one leg across so she sat on the horse as a man would, rather than to the side as woman normally would.

She shuffled a little, obviously unused to the broadness of a horses back, then grinned down at Legolas, obviously proud to have managed to seat herself to her satisfaction.

"Looks a little wobbly to me," Gimli commented from a safe distance, his eyes full of mistrust for the horse.

"She is fine," Legolas said, picking up his pack and placing it on his back, one eye on Melissa to make sure he was able to catch her should she suddenly tumble off the still horse.

"Let us be on our way, then," Elrohir said, walking forward, "The sooner we get to Rivendell, the sooner we can start to solve this mystery," he whistled over his shoulder as he walked, and the horse started to walk forward.

Melissa stiffened at the movement, her hands reaching down to grab at the horse's mane as she lost her balance. Elrohir instantly commanded the horse to stop and Melissa straightened herself up, blushing with embarrassment.

"I'm ok!" she said in her language, knuckles going white as they gripped the poor horse's mane.

Gimli snorted. "Make that a lot unsteady," he said, "How is she going to stay on if we go faster than a crawl?"

"Perhaps you could ride behind her and steady her?" Elrohir suggested, his face calm, but his eyes betraying how delighted he was when the dwarf huffed and puffed in reaction to the jibe.

Legolas considered Melissa as she sat on the horse, looking extremely embarrassed at her lack of balance. Her eyes flicked down to his, then lowered to study her hands. He watched as she visibly willed herself to relax her grip on the horse, and knew that she would be unable to stay on the horse if they traveled faster than a walk. There was always the possibility of an attack, and if they had to flee at speed they needed to be assured that she would not fall. They could either tie her to the horse or….

Moving quickly, he vaulted up behind her, pressing his body close to hers as she flinched from his sudden movement.

"It is ok," he said quietly, his hands loosely gripping her waist, "You ok?"

She blinked, "I'm ok," she replied, one hand releasing her hold on the poor horses mane and doing an odd gesture of making a fist with her hand and sticking a thumb up in the air, before her fingers once again thread their way through the mane.

"Good," he affirmed in her language, then spoke to his other companions in common. "I will travel with her, " he said, "If we travel fast, if you can run, we should be at the doors of Rivendell before nights end."

Gimli peered up at Legolas, then grinned at Elrohir. "Excellent," he said, "You will soon see just how swift a dwarf is, Master Elrohir. Do you think you will be able to keep up?"

Elrohir blinked in surprise, before peering back. "If you want to make a race of it, Master Dwarf, perhaps a wager is appropriate?"

Gimli's nose twitched at the challenge, "Don't bet anything you would rather not lose, Master Elf!"

Legolas rolled his eyes as his friend's blustering and gently urged the horse forward with a quick word and a tap of his legs. The movement, again unbalanced Melissa, but Legolas steadied her with arms around her waist. She stiffened at his contact, and began to bounce on the horse as it started to canter across the grass plain towards the mountain pass that lead to Rivendell.

"Relax," he murmured to her in his own language, worried that her rigidity would upset the both of them, He tightened his hold around her waist, and pulled her back against his body so that she could feel the rhythm of his own riding and begin to mimic it. She stiffened further at his touch, and Legolas began to wonder if it was taboo in her country for men and women to touch outside of bonding. His options were limited, though. If he did not hold her close she would certainly fall and harm herself even more, so he continued to hold her close speaking soft words of encouragement at they sped on.

She continued to be stiff and only after several miles did tiredness begin to relax her limbs. As she began to slump against him, Legolas almost gave a whimper of relief. His own limbs had begun to hurt with the constant bumping caused by her rigidity, and it was only now that she began to relax that he could also.

Tilting his head a little, he observed her profile. Her cheeks were rosy with fever, and her skin glistened with unhealthy heat. Her eyelids were falling, but ever so often she would jerk them open in an effort to keep awake. She was stubborn, this woman, unwilling to give in to her exhaustion or her illness and he admired her for it. He was unsure that he would fare as well as she had if he found suddenly found himself in a strange land with only strangers who could not speak his language as companions.

As her eyelids fell one final time and her head bent forward, he pulled her back further against him so that her head rested against his shoulder as they rode. Glancing to one side he say Elrohir easily matching the horses stride, his dark hair flowing in the cool breeze, his eyes merry as effortlessly out ran Gimli. The dwarf, some paces behind, was sweating as he ran along, his breath noisy with effort.

"Perhaps, friend dwarf, you have allowed your waist to expand a little since last our race to find Merry and Pippen?" Legolas called back to the dwarf, "I don't remember you tiring so quickly then."

Gimli snorted in indignation, while Elrohir laughed heartily. So heartily that he missed his footing and stumbled a few paces. Taking advantage of Elrohir's reduced speed, Gimli increased his pace and drew up next to the dark elf. Winking at Legolas, Gimli suddenly staggered into the running elf, knocking him over as he tried to recover from his first stumble.

"Ooops! Sorry laddie!", Gimli called over his shoulder as he took over the lead, "Lots of rabbit holes around here!"

Elrohir sprang to his feet, his brows lowered as he glared at Gimli's back.

"If that's how you want to race, Master dwarf," Elrohir grated under his breath, "I shall be happy to oblige!"

Legolas' keen hearing picked up the words and he shook his head and considered calling a warning to Gimli who was grinning broadly as he trotted along, unaware that Elrohir was hot on his heels. However, given Elrohir would hear any warning uttered and also given that Elrohir had a long memory and quite a reputation for playing practical jokes for revenge, Legolas decided that his dwarf companion could look out for his own back.

Watching Elrohir suddenly leap frog over a rather startled dwarf, displacing his helm and causing him to yell in surprise, Legolas had to laugh. Melissa, jerked at the sudden sound, her eyes opening in surprise, her body stiffening as she was wakened from her slumber. Legolas frowned, cross with himself for disturbing her sleep and murmured an apology.

She looked around owlishly, obviously not understanding what he said and probably confused as to how far they had traveled. Legolas lacked the words to reassure her, and frowned again. Encouraging her to return to sleep buy humming a calming elfish song, he considered their problems communicating. She had a great deal of trouble remembering words and phrases he had tried to teach her, so perhaps the best way forward was for him to learn her language first then he could teach her more easily.

If she was able to tell them exactly where she came from, then they may better understand how to send her back. Indeed, she might already know the way to return, but might not be able to communicate that. Satisfied that this was the best way forward, he looked down at Melissa to find that she had once again slipped back into a fevered sleep. Smiling, he continued to hum the song to himself and her feeling a sense of calm fall over them both.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

The sound of water falling gradually pulled Melissa from her long slumber. At first it was a distant noise that tickled at the edge of her consciousness. She could ignore it, relaxing in the warmth and comfort that surrounded her. But as it grew louder it pulled her from her dream like state and she reluctantly began to awake, aware that she wasn't actually as comfortable as her first hazy thoughts had assumed. Her bum hurt, her legs ached. Her feet, however, felt quite good which made a rather nice change.

She couldn't help the half gasped moan of pain that escaped her lips as she attempted to shift her position in order to get some blood back into her posterior. Strong hands moved around her waist to hold her steady and Melissa reluctantly opened her eyes to see….darkness.

She recalled immediately that they had set out early in the day, her on horseback and the others on foot. Legolas had mounted the horse behind her when she had demonstrated just how incompetent she was at driving the animal. Glancing over her shoulder she saw that he was still there, his features eerily bright in the cool night air and his face shining with an expression that she took to be encouragement and reassurance.

Neither of these helped her lack of circulation. Nor the growing need to empty her bladder which was being agitated by the never ending sounds of running water and the steady movement of the horse. She moved again, groaning as her hips tired to convince her that her legs were dislocated from sitting astride the cursed animal too long.

Legolas, seeming to understand her discomfort, ran his hands down from her waist to her thighs and began to massage her flesh. Melissa stiffened as his fingers dug deep into her muscles, or at least the layer of fat covering her muscles, and flushed red with embarrassment. The strong circular movements of his hands immediately began to reduce her discomfort, but then again the distraction of his fingers probing just how flabby her thighs were was distracting enough to make her forget the discomfort that she felt.

Blushing bright red, she grasped his hands with hers and yanked them back away from her skin. She felt him straighten behind her, his attitude one of surprise. Then, gently, he murmured an apology in her ear before extracting his hands from her grip and returning them to somewhere behind her.

She shifted again, trying to ignore her painful bladder, not wishing to add to her embarrassment by requesting that they stop so she could relieve herself. The sound of falling water didn't help and she twisted again, peering into the dark to see if she could see a suitable tree that she could crouch behind, but wary of things that could be hiding out in the dark shadows.

Legolas politely ignored her fidgeting for a short time, but then lent forward to question her softly in her ear in her language.

"Need water?" he murmured.

Actually, she did need water. Her throat was dry and sore, although a nice cup of tea would have been even better. However in order to drink any fluid, she first needed to expel some. In the few moments that she hesitated to ask, Legolas extracted a skin of fluid hooked up somewhere on the horse and sloshed it an apparent effort to entice her to drink.

Wincing, she bent her head and whispered back in the language that he had taught her the word that signified she needed to go to the toilet. He immediately stopped sloshing the water, and she hastily added the word for please before peeking up at him.

Nodding, he slipped elegantly down from the horse and hooked the water bottle back up, before reaching up to assist Melissa down. Despite his help, she descended less than elegantly. Her legs were numb and sore and seemed to get hooked up on the horse as she came down. And then, when her feet did touch the ground, pain shot up from her soles all the way up her spine making her gasp and hold on tightly to the elf.

Legolas, ever the gentleman, held her close supporting her weight as the circulation to her legs returned. Gradually he stood back from her, hands still on her elbows ready to support her should she fall.

Embarrassed again, Melissa lowered her head as she rocked forward and back on her heals trying to get rid of the cramping sensation, whilst still protecting the battered soles of her feet. Finally, feeling she had her legs under control, she pushed Legolas away and tried walking.

She was convinced by the sensation she was completely bow legged, her limbs permanently molded to the shape of the horses back. It was only by peering down that she convinced herself that her legs were, in fact still straight. Glancing up at Legolas, she could see that the elf was amused by the momentary horror that she was sure had showed up on her face. Glaring, she crossed her arms and waited instruction on where to go.

Bowing, Legolas offered her his arm and waited calmly until she took it, before leading her slowly to some trees. There, he crossed his arms and turned his back before advising quietly, "I listen."

Melissa grimaced, but after being attacked back at the lake felt less empowered and unable to argue with him. In fact, given the ache that was rapidly taking over her head and the dampness of the cold night and the pain that was her bladder she couldn't care less if he actually watched.

Finishing as quickly as she could, and praying that she hadn't in fact urinated over her clothes in the dark, she emerged from the behind the tree and watched as Legolas turned around and once again bowed. He held out his arm, obviously expecting her to walk back to the horse with his support, but she grimaced.

"Ick, I'm not touching you until I wash my hands!" she declared before hastily mumbling, "By touching, I mean holding your arm. Not actually touching. Even though you are very touchable." She groaned as her mouth just took off without her, then shivered again, "I think I must be ill," she mumbled hobbling back to the horse, "I don't generally speak such rubbish,".

Legolas was watching her curiously and she wondered just how much English he actually understood. He had picked up her language a great deal faster than she was picking up his and it was entirely possible that he understood basically what she said. Although given what she had just said she hoped he didn't.

Keeping pace with her, Legolas once again extracted the water skin and offered it to her, but his surprise showed as she tipped it up over her hands to wash them before lifting some of the fluid to her mouth. It was icy cold, and once again she shivered, as it seemed to freeze inside her. Legolas frowned slightly and raised a hand to her forehead, lightly touching her, then adjusted her cloak so that it covered her completely.

"Temperature, huh?" she asked, beginning to shiver more. "Sure could do with some ibuprofen right now.."

"Ibuprofen?" Legolas questioned.

Melissa opened her mouth to explain that it was a painkiller, but closed it when she remembered she really didn't have the words to convey the concept to Legolas, nor the inclination to mime anything remotely like medicine being given to a sick patient. The elf once again frowned as she shrugged instead.

"Melissa on horse please," Legolas said after a moment of contemplation, his arms once again shifting to her waist so he could boost her up.

Melissa groaned at the thought, and edged away slightly.

"My feet are just so much better," she started, "I'm more than able to walk now. After all, that horse must need a rest from carrying us both, especially me. You look like you weigh next to nothing, but I'm quite a lot more than nothing and could really do with the exercise to get rid of some of this flab-"

She was cut off suddenly by Legolas moving his finger to her lips, his touch instantly making her forget what she was jabbering on about. She groaned again realizing that her fever was making her extremely verbal and that she needed to just try and stay quiet. Legolas smiled slightly then moved his finger to point to something in the distance.

Her eyes followed and she saw twinkling in the distance a multitude of lights indicating, she hoped, a settlement.

"That is where we are going?" she asked, wincing a little at her whiney ever so hopeful tone.

"Imladris," Legolas said, "Rivendell. We go there now," his lips pulling into a smile at the look of delight and relief on her face.

Once again he placed his hands around her waist and lifted her up onto the horse. As she moved to swing one aching leg astride the animal, Legolas placed his hand on her leg to stop her.

"No," he said, "Stay."

In a fluid leap, he mounted the horse behind her, then drew her close, arms cradling her to him like a bride. She blushed again at the intimate sensation, embarrassed a little by all the care he was showing to her, but she conceded that her hips and her rear were a lot more comfortable with this than with her previous position.

Taking a moment to adjust her cloak once more, Legolas then urged the horse forward towards the lights in the distance, and Melissa looked forward eager to see a first glimpse of civilization in this strange land.

Now that her mind wasn't so distracted by a full bladder or the discomfort of aching legs, Melissa allowed her eyes to wander over the dark shadows that surrounded them. The noise of falling water continued to play in her ears, growing louder all the time and it was with some surprise she figured out that the trail they were following led towards a waterfall. In fact, not just one waterfall but many. No wonder the air was so damp and cold; the valley through which they were travelling appeared to be riddled with the things.

Melissa wriggled her nose. Normally she delighted in waterfalls, but normal usually consisted of an easy short walk from a car park with the promise of a drink in the pub at the end. Waterfalls on cold evenings whilst feeling crap had significantly less appeal. And she had to wonder why anyone would live in such a waterlogged valley. She silently hoped that any bed she was offered (please God, let there be a nice soft bed soon!) wouldn't be damp and cold.

Memories of staying with her grandmother suddenly flooded Melissa's mind, particularly of the bed that her grandmother always kept made up in the spare room at the back of the house. Layers and layers of heavy blankets sandwiching flannel sheets, all damp and musty. How Melissa hated that bed, with its horrible creaky springs and lumpy mattress.

She shuddered at the memory and felt Legolas adjust her cloak for her again.

"I'm OK," she croaked trying to reassure the elf that she wasn't getting worse, just reminiscing. He nodded and pointed ahead.

"Rivendell," he murmured.

Looking forward Melissa could see that they now approached sturdy gates that were open, flanked by elf guards holding torches to illuminate the way. As her eyes drifted higher to the buildings peeking over the tops of the walls she felt her mouth drop open in surprise.

She had been expected something fairly basic; medieval perhaps with thatched roofs or daub and wattle buildings, but nothing had led her to expect anything like this. The bright whiteness of the stone buildings reflected the torchlight making the settlement glow in a rather unworldly way. Spires and domes soared above the walls, some solid stone, some pierced with elaborate patterns and Melissa had difficulty comprehending how something that ornate and delicate could even support its own weight.

Legolas, nodding to the guards, guided the horse though the gate to the courtyard beyond and Melissa was surprised to see that it was not just the roofs of the building that were wonderfully carved. Every piece of stone seemed to have been decorated and whilst the effect could have been overpowering, it was instead quite pleasing and restful to her eyes.

In the courtyard a number of elves stood to greet them, including Elrohir who looked remarkably fresh for someone who have been running all day to get here. He had even had time to change his clothes, Melissa noted with envy, and was wearing what appeared to be a crimson robe and cloak whilst his dark hair was held back by an intricate silver circlet that looked suspiciously like a crown.

Legolas pulled the horse to a halt and, first making sure that Melissa was balanced, slid from the horses back and bowed before Elrohir. Melissa frowned as Elrohir bowed back and wondered just why there were being so formal with each other.

Allowing her eyes to stray to the other elves present she noticed that they all appeared to be male, all stunningly beautiful and all, with the exception of Elrohir, blonde. Melissa could not help the small frown that formed on her face as she compared her own plainness to the inhuman beauty of these creatures. And if the males were this pretty, what on earth did the females look like?

She glanced around seeking Gimli to anchor her sight on, to reassure herself that she wasn't the plainest creature in this world, but found him missing. Perhaps he was following Elrohir's example and bathing. Goodness knows he would certainly need an extended soak to come clean.

Legolas reaching up to assist her down interrupted her musing. She gratefully accepting his help, her limbs still stiff and sore, and didn't push him away when he kept his hand at her elbow even when she had gained her balance. His presence made her feel more secure as these new people regarded her closely.

Legolas gestured to Elrohir and murmured to her in English

"This is Elladan."

He then turned to the dark elf and apparently introduced her as she heard her name intertwined with beautiful soft Elfin words.

Melissa blinked and studied the dark elf who had inclined his head regally.

"Erm, not Elrohir?" Melissa whispered to Legolas whilst peering at the new elf.

Elladan raised his head and grinned at her confusion before pointing over to the gates through which at that very moment Elrohir ran through with a dwarf hot on his heels, his stubby fingers reaching out to try and grasp the elf's cloak.

Melissa blinked in astonishment as Gimli tackled Elrohir and they both tumbled together to land in a heap at Elladan's feet, the dwarf cursing loudly whilst the elf laughed in apparent delight at having being caught.

"Welcome to Rivendell," Elrohir grinned up at Melissa.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Elrohir and Gimli's approach was so loud that Legolas was quite frankly surprised that Melissa hadn't detected it. Ever since they had entered Rivendell's courtyard to greet Elladan all elves present had been able to detect the fast approaching heavy footfalls of the dwarf together with the muttered curses of Elrohir as he apparently was having difficulty keeping ahead of the determined dwarf.

Pointedly, Elladan had ignored this, instead had bowed courteously to his guest relishing in Melissa's apparent confusion. It had been a long time since a mortal had visited Rivendell and even longer since the twins had managed to confuse anyone with their identity

When Elrohir and Gimli did burst through the gates, the dwarf was breathing so heavy Legolas was almost concerned for his health. He had apparently lost some of his gear in the race against the elf, deliberately or not Legolas was unsure. With a roar and one final push Gimli managed to grasp Elrohir's cloak, pulling it hard to check the elf's speed just paces away from the races set end. Elrohir glanced over his shoulder about to shrug himself free of the cloak when Gimli with one last burst of energy leapt forward and tackled the elf. Elrohir, taken completely by surprise laughed in delight as both elf and dwarf rolled across the ground to land in a heap at Elladan's feet, Gimli pinning the slender elf to the ground with his greater weight.

Elladan peered down at his brother, whilst Elrohir took in Melissa's shocked stare with a grin and welcomed her to Rivendell. Gimli, panting heavily, seemed not to have the energy to lift himself off Elrohir and the ground, so Legolas took pity and moved forward to assist his friend to his feet.

Gimli, still panting, shook off Legolas' arm and declared that he was quite comfortable where he was, but then struggled to his feet, his face ruddy from the race. Elrohir's grin turned to a grimace as Gimli stuck his elbow quite deliberately in the elf's stomach as he got to his feet before he gracefully stood and brushed himself down, smiling at the exhausted looking dwarf who glared back at the elf.

"You fight dirty, lad!" Gimli declared, "I have never before in all my days encountered such a devious elf!"

Elrohir snorted, then nodded towards his brother, "You haven't met Elladan then," he smiled, before clapping the dwarf on the shoulder. "You had a few tricks of your own, Master Dwarf!" he stated, "and your ability to avoid some of the traps I set was so impressive I could make songs about it! I declare our race a draw, my friend! What say you?"

Gimli glared at the elf a little longer, before his eyes started to twinkle and he slapped Elrohir around the shoulders. "Aye lad! So long as you help me retrieve my pans from the waterfall yonder; the one you nearly tossed me down!"

Legolas winced as Elrohir staggered from Gimli's blow, knowing that Gimli has slapped the elf as hard as he could. Elrohir laughed again, the wicked gleam in his eyes promising that he would reward Gimli for his blow in due course. Elrohir then turned and embraced his brother before turning back to Legolas and Melissa.

"Come, Melissa must be tired and it will not help her fever if she remains out in the cold air,"

Legolas turned to the mortal woman, who was looking pale and tired and more than a little bemused at what she could see of Rivendell. He smiled a little wistfully, thinking back to the time when he had first come to Imladris in Elrond's time. Even then elves were leaving middle earth and Imladris was half empty and beginning to fade as if in sympathy for the elves. Now it was a mere shadow of what it had been, with rooms long deserted, choked with leaves and cold. There were only a handful of elves remaining in this once famous stronghold and they kept to only a small part of the buildings, allowing the rest to fade. And soon, the last of the elves would be gone and Rivendell would then sink forever into myth and legend, lost for all time.

Shaking these thoughts away, Legolas extended his arm to Melissa and gently guided her up the steps to the receiving hall,. A fire burned bright there, and he led her to it, bidding her sit whilst preparations were made for them to bathe.

Elladan followed with Elrohir, the brothers quietly conversing as they moved, Elrohir quickly telling Elladan about how he had discovered Legolas, Gimli and Melissa and briefing him on the human's ill health. Elladan instantly turned his attention to Melissa, his quick eyes assessing her condition as she sat before the fire, her hands held out warming them.

"With your permission, lady…" he said in common, seeking to touch her forehead with his hand and assess her temperature. Melissa looked confused, but too weary to protest and allowed the Elfin lord to continue. She straightened as the elf assessed her fever, then slumped again when Elladan took his hand away, her arms cradling her stomach as if it pained her.

"Her fever is not great, but her feet should be looked at once she has had the opportunity to refresh herself," Elladan declared. "You treated them with salve?" He asked turning to his brother. Elrohir nodded. "Good', Elladan continued, 'Rest easy, Legolas, your mortal friend will be fine. She appears weary, nothing more."

Legolas nodded his thanks to the brothers as a elf entered the hall, murmuring that the guest rooms were prepared and that fresh robes had been placed in the bath house in readiness for the travelers to change into after they had bathed.

Gimli frowned.

"Save yer trouble, elf. This dwarf doesn't need a pot of water to immerse himself in," he sad, ignoring the sweat that was still dribbling down his forehead, "Nor does he need any dress to robe himself in. A tankard of ale is all I need to refresh me."

Legolas fought hard to hide the smirk he felt tweak the edges of his lips at Gimli's declaration. He had never seen the dwarf disrobe before, let alone bath, and had become accustomed to his quite distinctive scent. Elrohir and Elladan looked at each other for a moment, considering how to proceed, but then nodded and gestured for the dwarf to be lead off to a resting chamber where ale would be served him.

Elladan looked towards Melissa. "Would the lady also prefer to just partake in ale?" he questioned.

Legolas smiled and shook his head. "I'm sure that the lady would prefer to bath," he said in elfish so that Melissa could not pick up on any of his words and would not be embarrassed by them. "She is remarkably fastidious for a human mortal and I am sure she will appreciate the chance to get fully clean."

He turned to Melissa who was huddled in front of the fire still looking tired and in some discomfort.

"Melissa, come wash," he said in her language.

She blinked a couple of times, before turning her head to look up at him. She looked wearier than he had previously thought and had, apparently, been almost on the edge of sleep as she sat before the fire. Legolas momentarily thought to offer her the option of just retiring, but a small smile came to her lips.

"Hot water?" she enquired in common.

Legolas smiled and reached down a hand to help her to her feet. "Lots of hot water," he said in common, nodding at the same time.

Elladan bowed to Melissa remaining in the greeting hall to talk with his advisors, as Legolas led the way to the bathing rooms. Last time Legolas had visited this dwelling, he had spent many relaxing hours immersed in the communal bathing pools that Rivendell boasted. When Rivendell had been constructed, its location had been chosen to take within its boundary hot springs. Over the years, the hot springs had been enclosed within the building itself, and the water channeled into large communal pools. Whilst males and females did not bath together, the social aspect of communal bathing was extremely important to elves. The bathing rooms were sectioned with large stone screens to enable males and females to bath in private, but to be still able to converse with each other. Just how Legolas was going to explain this to Melissa, he did not know.

"I have not the words to tell her what to do," Legolas murmured in elfish to Elrohir.

The darker elf grinned

"I think the lady knows how to wash herself," he said before bowing to Melissa and slipping through the door that lead to the area where male elves disrobed and rinsed their bodies before soaking in the hot pools.

Melissa made to follow, but Legolas grabbed her arm.

"No, Melissa," he said in her language. "Not there."

Melissa looked confused, but nodded hesitantly, before her eyes followed his outstretched hand that was pointing towards another door.

"Female," he said in common, before pointing to the door through which Elrohir had disappeared, "Male."

Melissa blushed, then nodded moving towards the female entrance and peeking in. Legolas, hesitantly, followed her into the dimly lit room. The interior was much the same as the male antechamber of the baths, white marble benches lined the room upon which were folded neatly white robes into which the bather would change after they had finished washing. Small lengths of linen were also stacked there with which a bather would use to dry themselves, and neatly stacked by the door which led to the pools themselves were a couple of small pails, with ladles and cleansing lotions.

Despite the fact that Rivendell was bereft of female occupation, the elves had managed to find female robes and lotions for Melissa and Legolas was grateful that they had done so. He was sure that she would feel more comfortable to be dressed in a fashion that suited a woman rather than dwarfish cast-offs.

Leading Melissa further in he pointed to the pails and ladles.

"Melissa wash here, then sit hot water." He said hesitantly in her tongue. She nodded as if she understood, her eyes shifting to the snowy white robes.

"Wear those after wash," Legolas continued, and again she nodded.

Moving over to the pail he pointed to the two herb infusions that sat next to the pails in squat pottery jars. He pointed to one then the other.

"Hair, body," he said, looking at her to make sure she understood and would use the correct infusion on the correct part of her body.

She nodded again, crouching down to sniff the scents of the infusion, her mouth turning upward as she seemed to find them pleasing.

"I see you in bath," Legolas finished in her language and was startled when her head lifted swiftly to stare at him. He frowned, considering what he said, then grinned with embarrassment. "No see…" he trailed off irritated that he had not the words to explain. Instead, he took her through the door that led to the pools and pointed at the stone screen that divided the pool in two.

Melissa chuckled.

"You will be on the other side?" she questioned.

Legolas frowned. "I will be on the other side," he affirmed, raising an eyebrow to see if he had said it correctly.

Melissa nodded once more, then shooed him away.

"Go, I'm ok," she said. "I want to wash."

Legolas smiled and wrinkled his nose.

"You need to wash," he said in her tongue and darted out the room as one of the small buckets sailed towards him with surprising force. Obviously he had got that sentence out correctly.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Peeking her head back into the bathing room Melissa all but sighed in delight at the expanse of steaming hot water that was before her. After so many days of trying to clean herself in cold water and wearing the same clothes she felt quite emotional about such a simple pleasure.

She had understood the principals behind the bathing rooms from Legolas' hurried explanation. It was a communal area, however the screen that partitioned the extensive room into two segregated men and women. The room was impressive, and, like all of Rivendell she had seen so far, beautifully decorated. The walls were white stone, carved with figure of elves together with impressions of nature and animals. Looking up she saw that the ceiling was domed and had punctured with many swirls and shapes so that it looked like lace instead of stone. Moonlight shone through the patterns, whilst the steam from the pool lazily swirled up and out through the holes.

Even though the room was exposed to the night sky, it was not cold. The marble floor beneath her feet glowed with warmth and Melissa felt as comfortable as if she was sitting in front of a fire. Looking around, she saw no visible source of the heat, and supposed that the elves had harnessed a natural resource and channelled heated water to this room by some means.

The light was dim in the room, only a few candles placed high upon the wall illuminated the room, but the white marble seemed to reflect this light and the moonlight that filtered in from above. There was enough light to make Melissa feel relaxed and comfortable in her surroundings.

Crouching beside the water, she dipped the pail in and lifted a bucket of water out. Dipping her finger in she was delighted to find that the water was not tepid, but delightfully hot, and she grinned as she carried the heavy pail back to the area where the jars of soap like substance were.

Eagerly, she stripped her body of the cloak, shirt and trousers, before ladling some of the water over the bandages on her feet to soak them and aid their removal. Then she sloshed water over her entire body, before reaching for the lotions and massaging them first into her hair, and then all over her body.

They were not as soapy as detergents and shampoos were in her world. But they smelt divine; the scent of lavender, geranium and other identifiable smells lifting her spirits as they tickled her nose.

She was filthy. It took her three rinses and repeats before she was even close to satisfied with her hair, by which time her bandages were so soaked they fell away from her feet. She made to toss the bandages with her other filthy clothes, but then hesitated. Her period was due any moment now, and she had not seen any female elves that she could ask for a supply of the elvish equivalent of sanitary protection. Realising that she may have to take care of it herself, or ask Legolas for assistance, she opted to wash the bandages carefully in yet another bucket of water so that she could use them as pads if she was desperate.

A gentle splash and a few murmured words drew her attention back to the pool. Elladen and Legolas had finished their prewash and were now soaking themselves in the hot water. They apparently weren't near as dirty as she and she grimaced as she filled her bucket yet another time and continued washing the bandages until the water no longer became dirty.

Satisfied that she had done all she could, she squeezed the excess moisture from the bandages, and then placed them beside the bucket so she would not forget them when she had finished. Hobbling over to the pool, she eased herself in.

The water was rather hot, and it took a long time, and some startled gasps, before she managed to get her entire body in. Deep enough to swim in, she did just that, delighting in the warmth and the relaxation her body felt. Turning onto her back, she floated feeling the water swirl her hair around in its slight current. Closing her eyes she luxuriated in the sensation; it was something that she had taken so much for granted before but was now extremely precious to her.

Even as she felt herself lulled towards sleep, her waterlogged ears detected a voice and she lifted her head to hear Legolas calling her name.

"Yes? What?" she called back, swimming to the edge of the pool, looking around to see if she could see the elf.

"Don't sleep, Melissa," the clear voice advised her and she realised that he was still on his side of the partition. "We get out soon."

Smiling to herself she absently nodded before calling her agreement back over the partition, but she was reluctant to leave such a pleasant environment. Her cramping stomach had been appeased by the heat of the water and she knew that when she got out it would start making its presence known again.

She pushed her wet hair out of her eyes, ignoring the sweat that was forming on her brow from the heat of the water and looked up at the night sky. She rested her head on the edge of the pool, her arms floating languidly on either side of her. The stars shone clear and bright above her, occasionally dimming as wisps of cloud were blown across them. It was easy to feel insignificant when presented such a view and she wondered whether the stars above her where the same constellations that she had seen other nights in her own world. There they were dim and pale, sickly. Here they were bright and beautiful, and made her feel insignificant and a little lonely.

Her head began to ache as she considered them, and as she lifted her head from its resting place she felt a wave of dizziness overcome her. Grimacing, she realised she had spent too long in the hot water, and her body was protesting and making it know to her that it she was long overdue to get out. She sat up straight, intending to get out, but felt another wave of dizziness wash over her as her body failed to do what she wanted it to. As her world tilted sideways and went dark, Melissa's last coherent thought was wondering if when she next opened her eyes she would be back in her own bathtub with a hangover and laughing over her extremely vivid drunken dreams.

The water was blissful. It had been a long time since Leoglas had indulged in hot baths and as he and Elrohir sat in quite contemplation he wondered just how he could share this pleasure with Gimli. The dwarf seemed to have a pathological dislike of water and the ability of it to get one clean. Perhaps he had something to hide under all his armour, hair and beard. Dwarf females were rumoured to sport beards, perhaps if Legolas suggested to Gimli that Elrohir thought he was actually a she, the dwarf would be more inclined to bare himself to prove his masculinity.

Of course, Gimli may be more inclined to kill Elrohir for such a suggestion, and Legolas was less than certain he wanted to put the Rivendell lord at such risk, but the thought was amusing. Smiling to himself he glanced at Elladen to see him peering at him with a suspicious look in his eyes.

In an effort to distract Elrohir, Legolas called softly to the mortal who was bathing just the other side of the screen. He had heard her scrub herself down many times before entering the water and had been pleased that she had gone to such efforts to cleanse herself and not pollute the hot spring waters. Not receiving a response, he raised an eyebrow at Elrohir, who had turned his head and was listening intently. Faint swishing movements came and Legolas decided that Melissa was probably swimming and had not heard him.

"She ought not to stay in too long," Elrohir advised, standing and walking to the edge of the pool, "It would not be good for her fever and she needs as much rest as she can get."

Legolas nodded, and called her name twice, louder than before. A startled splash resulted and he called over to her that she should be getting out soon. Hearing her agree, he stood himself and left the pool.

Pulling on a soft white robe, he ran his fingers through damp hair and felt relaxed and alive. Elrohir tossed him a comb with which to properly groom his hair, and Legolas took the time to unravel the warrior plaits that kept his hair away from his face, before deftly braiding them.

Satisfied with his grooming, Legolas stooped to pick up his discarded clothes and place them in a wicker basket that served the purpose of collecting soiled clothing. It used to be that elvish maidens saw to laundering and mending of clothes, but now that duty would fall by roster to one of the Rivendell warriors. And just because Legolas was a guest, it didn't mean that he was precluded from such duties. Nor would Melissa be, although she would need to be taught how to do even basic duties that a child would know how to do.

Elrohir threw his soiled clothing on top of Legolas' and moved to the door.

"Melissa should be ready by now," he said, "That short hair calls for little grooming," he smiled, flicking his own long wet locks over his shoulder.

Legolas smiled his agreement and exited the room to the hall outside with his host,. The drop in temperature was noticeable even to an elf; the bathrooms being unnaturally warm. He was relieved to see that Melissa was not waiting for them outside as he was sure she would ill affect her health.

Listening intently, he could hear no sounds of her getting dressed inside and he turned to Elrohir puzzled.

"She would not have left on her own, would she?" he questioned, looking up and down the hall.

"She did not seem the type to wander," Elrohir frowned "Unless Elladan collected her, but he would have-"

He broke off as they both heard a soft groan and a splash from within the bathhouse.

Quickly, Leoglas and Elrohir entered the female changing room, and through into the bath house which, at first glance, appeared empty. Bubbles on the surface water proved otherwise and, jumping into the water, Leglas submersed himself and caught hold of Melissa's unconscious body as she sunk further under the water.

Lifting her to the surface, he pulled her to the side, averting his eyes from her naked form, as Elrohir took her from him and pulled her out of the water. Laying her on the ground, Elrohir quickly assessed that she was breathing and had not appeared to breathed in any water, before he stood up and allowed Legolas to drape her with a robe he had retrieved from the next room.

Lifting her slightly, Legolas wrapped the robe around her, smoothing her waterlogged hair out of her face.

"Well, lady," he murmured softly, "This is becoming a habit for you and I."

Elrohir smiled and crouched beside Legolas.

"She will be fine. I should have realised that the heat would be too much for her and I ought to have insisted that she leave the water much earlier," he said, before standing, "Can you carry her? It would be best if she was out of this heat and in a bed where she can rest properly."

Legolas nodded, and after taking a moment to tie the robes' sash around her waste, listed Melissa grunting a little from her weight. Elrohir, in the process of putting her dirty clothes in the wicker basket, grinned at the effort it took Legolas, then nodded towards the washed and neatly folded bandages.

"Do you think she wants to keep those as some sort of keepsake of you?" he teased.

Legolas eyes followed to where Elrohir was pointing and raised an eyebrow at the dark elf's teasing.

"I have no idea," he commented dryly, "but unless you take me to the chamber set aside for her quickly, you run the risk of me dropping her on the floor and giving her further injuries.

Elrohir chuckled at this and, scooping up the bandages, swiftly went to the door and led the way down the hall to the rooms set aside for Gimli, Legolas and Melissa. Passing one door, Legolas detected his dwarf friend's exceedingly loud snore and made a mental note to himself to casually comment that Elrohir considered the possibility that Gimli was a female dwarf. After all the teasing the Elrohir was doing it would be only fair play to retaliate with a bit of dwarfen anger.

Two doors down Elrohir paused to open a door and they entered a small room, which contained a large bed, a chair and little else. Sitting in the chair was Elladen, a small box of medical concoctions and bandages beside him. He raised an eyebrow at the parties' abrupt appearance, but made no comment as Legolas lowered Melissa to the bed, pulling her robe tighter as he settled her when it threatened to slip from her shoulder.

"Heat?" Elladen asked, and Elrohir had the grace to look embarrassed. "Father taught you better than that" Ellanden scolded, then went to work on Melissa's feet.

Elrohir looked on expectantly, seeming to wait for Melissa to wake and kick his brother as she had done to him. But Melissa lay still and quiet, her chest rising and lowering with each breath, her face pale and her hair startling dark against her skin.

"She is asleep, " Elladen reassured Legolas who was beginning to look concerned at her lack of reaction. "She may have fainted from the heat of the bath, but she has moved on to healing sleep now. She will wake in the morning and all will be well."

Legolas nodded and shifted uncomfortable as he realised that he was still dressed in a wet robe having forgotten to change after he jumped into the water to pull Melissa out. Elrohir smiled at his discomfort.

"Come, my friend, let me show you to your room," he said, moving towards the door, "Melissa will be safe here, and I'm sure should she wake distressed you will hear her through the wall as your room is just next door."

"And tomorrow we shall discuss this puzzle further" Elladen said, gathering up his medicines. "If we cannot solve this mystery, then I am certain that Celeborn can help."


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Melissa woke up slowly, warm and comfortable, cradled in softness. If not for the cramping of her stomach she felt she could stay asleep forever. However, the persistence of her body to pay attention to it made her reluctantly open her eyes and peer around the room.

She was alone in a pristine white room. Sunlight was streaming through the windows and a breeze was gently blowing back the material curtains that only pretended to shield them. Everything was white; the cover on the bed, the linen, the walls, the curtains, even the carved wooden chair in the corner seemed to be made of some kind of bleached wood. The walls seemed to glow with a pearly white sheen.

Melissa rolled over, closing her eyes against the dazzle, before slowly getting out of bed, wincing slightly as her bruised feet touched the cool white marble floor. Tentatively putting her weight on her feet, she was mildly gratified to find that her feet didn't feel nearly as uncomfortable as the day before, She wouldn't be running any races just yet, but she was feeling a lot better.

Absently, she scratched her head, fluffing up her hair whilst glancing around the room. She couldn't remember getting here, the last thing she could recall was bathing in the wonderful pool and worrying about her period. Her stomach cramped on queue and her hand dropped from her hair to her stomach as she winced in discomfort. Pulling aside her white robe, she peered down to see that her period had, indeed, begun; her thighs bearing the telltale trails of blood.

Swearing softly, she peered back at the pristine white bed. She would just die of shame if she had stained that! Thankfully, it was still white. It seemed that only now that she was upright that gravity was working against her. Frowning, she wondered what had become of the bandages that she had washed for the express purpose of being a sanitary pad until she could communicate with some female and obtain something better.

She found them folded neatly on the white chair, still a little damp from the scrubbing they had received. Grabbing one bundle, she peered at it, then down at her thighs, wondering just how she was going to secure a pad in place when she had no underwear, and apparently no clothes other than the flowing white robe she currently wore.

Blood tricked down her thigh and splashed on the marble floor.

"Oh shit!" she grimaced, swiftly placing the pad between her legs in order to stop herself making anymore mess. "What in the hell did Victorian women do!"

Eyeing the other roll of bandages, she gripped her thighs together in order to prevent the pad from slipping, then opened up her robe and tied one end around her waist, and awkwardly looped the other length between her legs, contorting her body around as she attempted to tie the other end to the belt of material around her waist.

The result was uncomfortable to say the least. And not exactly secure. So long as she stood still, absolutely still, she would be fine. If she attempted to walk she knew the pad would slid out sideways, fall to the ground and if that happened in company she would just have to kill herself. At least she was alone for now.

A light tap on the door sounded.

Melissa grimaced, quickly tying the robe securely around her waist, and moving so that her foot hid the splash of blood on the floor.

"Erm, hello?" she called out, wrapping her arms around her waist.

The door opened and Legolas looked in, his mouth pulling into a smile as he saw that she was up.

"Good morning," he said in English, moving towards her and lifting a hand to feel her head. His smile broadened, "You feel good?"

Melissa smiled back and nodded, before grimacing as he looked down at her feet.

"Your feet are good?" he questioned.

"Er, yes," she mumbled, almost eeping as he crouched down to look. "Much better. Much, much better."

Melissa bit her lip at her inability to move back least she reveal the bloodstain as Legolas ran a long finger over the arch of her left foot. He paused and peered up at her as if he expected her to protest, an eyebrow raised. Melissa merely gritted her teeth and smiled broadly at him.

"I'm fine', she said, 'my feet are fine," she paused as he continued to look up at her, "Good grief, I'm ok you silly elf!" she exclaimed.

Legolas slowly got to his feet, his body disturbingly close to her invading her personal space. Her eyes narrowed and he continued to regard her with curiosity. Unable to put up with his nearness any more, she raised her hands and pushed him none too gently back.

"I am fine," she repeated once more, her mouth fixed in a grin that was quickly turning into a grimace.

Legolas nodded,

"Come eat," he said, holding out a hand to lead her away.

Melissa blinked. She was exceedingly hungry and thirsty and longed to fill her stomach, but there was the not so small problem of fixing her sanitary problem. Pulling her robe tighter around her, she blinked again wondering what to do.

"Melissa, come eat," Legolas repeated, his hand remaining out stretched.

"Erm….I need clothes!", Melissa stalled, "Pants, a shirt. Help dressing too? Perhaps there is a nice female elf who could help me?"

Legolas frowned slightly at her words.

"Melissa's clothes are unclean," he said, "No female elves in Rivendell."

Melissa blinked again.

The clothes she could understand, they certainly needed a good scrub even before she got them, but….

"No females?", she repeated.

How could there be no women in this settlement? It looked too elegant to be a fort or stronghold. Frowning, Melissa studied Legolas. She knew next to nothing of the people of this strange world. Perhaps there simply were no female elves at all. Perhaps the race of elves was hermaphrodite; Legolas, although he did look masculine, was extraordinarily beautiful. Perhaps elves were both male and female….

"Melissa?"

She jumped, realising she had been staring at Legolas.

"Look, I need clothes," she muttered, blushing and turning away, then freezing as she felt the pad shift. Unable to stop herself, her eyes moved down to the spot of blood she had just uncovered. Legolas' eyes followed.

He frowned at the blood, his eyes moving swiftly to her feet trying to determine if she had hurt herself again.

"Melissa-" he started

"Do. Not. Ask!", she grated, flushing even redder,

"You are hurt-" he stood close to her, looking for all the world like he was about to sweep her up in his arms and carry her to the bed. She knew if he did the teetering bad would dislodge and she would die of embarrassment.

"No!" she said firmly, holding up her hands in an effort to stop him, "I'm fine, its just my period…."

He paused, frowning at the unfamiliar word.

"Period?" he repeated, drawing the word out slowly.

"Oh God," Melissa buried her burning face into her hands feeling like she was going to hyperventilate from embarrassment. Grimacing, she tried to get a grip. She wasn't some silly teenage girl, she was a grown woman who ought to be poised and self assured about the way her body functioned. Periods were normal. However, having to describe them to some gorgeous elf was not normal. Melissa peeked through her fingers hoping that Legolas had taken the hint and left.

He hadn't. Worse still, either Elladan or Elrohir had joined him. She watched with horror as Legolas talked softly to the other elf, pointing down to the blood spot on the floor and once again enunciating quite clearly the word 'period'.

The second elf raised an eyebrow as he first glanced at the blood, then up at Melissa who was still hiding her face in her hands. A glimmer of a smile hovered around his mouth as he turned to Legolas and spoke in a reassuring voice to him. Then it was Legolas whose face went pink as he glanced down at the blood, up at Melissa and then stared fixedly out the window. Apparently Elrohir or Elladan had a better knowledge of female human anatomy and had advised Legolas that this blood loss was nothing to be concerned about.

The dark elf bowed his head reassuringly to Melissa, turned and left the room leaving a flushed Legolas. Melissa continued to peek at him through her fingers, which seemed to be spot welded to her face. Legolas blinked a couple of times before focussing back on Melissa. Lifting a hand, he gently touched her fingers, drawing her hands away from her face, frowning slightly as her gaze went down to the floor.

"I am sorry," he said to her, his voice low and sincere. When she still focused on the floor, he tilted her face up so she had to look at him. The blush in his face had gone; his skin returning to its normal pale colour. He smiled slightly. "No elfin females, but Elladan can help. Melissa needs help, Melissa asks for help."

Melissa bit her lip, Legolas' message was clear. She ought not to be embarrassed by the things that she needed to get by in this strange place. She nodded once and Legolas let go of her chin, stepping back to give her more room as Elladan re-entered the room.

Elladan's face was solemn as he held out a bundle of what appeared to be rags. Melissa's face was equally solemn as she accepted them, then looked up to with an eyebrow raised.

"This is the solution?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

More rags and something that, when she raised it to examine it, looked suspiciously like her improvised belt, only more sturdy and with a couple of pins attached. Looking back up to the elves, she saw they had both averted their eyes, so she hastily bundled up the cloth again and stared at the material she held in her arms. Surely they had something more sophisticated than this?

"Is this not ok?" Elladan asked, looking puzzled.

Melissa raised her eyes to his and saw that he was confused. And who could blame him? If they had no tampons in this strange world, then a belt and cloth pads were probably cutting edge technology so far as periods went. However uncomfortable and disgustingly messy they were.

Her shoulders sagged and she nodded.

"Its fine, thank you," she murmured.

Elladan nodded, still looking puzzled, and turned to leave gesturing for Legolas to follow. Legolas appeared less than happy with Melissa's reaction to the solution to her problem, but acquiesced and followed Elladan, murmuring as he left that he would wait outside for her.

As the door shut, Melissa once again looked down at the rags and belt she held in her hands and wondered what the hell she had ever done to deserve this.


	13. Chapter 13

Lost, by kmf

Chapter 13

Legolas observed Melissa closely as she sat at the table breaking her fast with warm bread. The angry spots of colour that had adorned her cheeks when he had inadvertently embarrassed her in her room had faded and her skin, whilst pale from her illness, was looking healthier than it had done in the last couple of days.

Catching a quick movement that signified that she was about to look up, he turned his attention to his own bread. He didn't want to embarrass her further this morning with ill-mannered stares. Once he saw with his peripheral vision that she was again concentrating on her meal he returned his gaze directly to her.

She was such an oddity for a human. Her cropped hair was standing on end like a ragged boy's, but her hands were smooth and uncallused like a lady's. Her body was youthful, but her eyes gave away that she was older than she appeared. He burned with curiosity to know more and cursed his inability to communicate well with her.

Leaning more of her language was a priority for him and not least because he wished to avoid such embarrassment as this morning had caused both him and her. The shock he had got when he had first seen blood on the floor of her room had been startling and sharp. Whilst he was familiar with the human female cycle, so similar to his own race only much, much more frequent, he had not even considered it. Instead he had instantly thought she had hurt herself and she could not communicate about her injury, or, even worse, that she did not trust him to give her aid.

The detailed explanation given by the healer, together with a reminder on just how often the woman would suffer from this natural malady, had made him flush red with embarrassment to the extent he had not experienced since he was an elfling.

A couple of elves, watchmen from their looks, entered the room and drifted over to the table, nodding respectfully to Legolas and looking curiously at Melissa before sitting down to their own repast. Legolas watched Melissa look at them closely noting her eyes flicking from them to him and then back again.

The two watchmen ignored her out of politeness, but Legolas knew that they were just as curious about her as she was about them.

"Legolas," Melissa addressed him for the first time since they sat down to eat. He raised his eyes to hers and saw confusion there.

"Why are….?" She asked a question but Legolas could only understand the first two words she said. He raised an eyebrow.

"I do not understand," he replied to her in her language, a phrase that she had used often and came easily to his lips.

She gave a huff of frustration, repeating her question then, half standing, reached over the table to touch one of his warrior braids that were knotted from his temple, before pointing to the two watchmen who had identical braids, but different from his.

The two watchmen gave up any pretence of eating and all but smirked at Legolas who was trying not to blush as Melissa's hand accidentally grazed his ear.

"Why are your braids different?" he repeated the question back to her, pointing to his knots and repeating the word 'braid' to make sure he had identified the correct word.

She nodded, lifting a hand towards the knots of the elf that sat next to her.

"No!" Legolas stopped her movement with a quick word, nodding apologetically to the watchman who looked surprised but not annoyed. "Do not touch," Legolas continued, "It is not good, not ok."

There was no way to communicate that the knots denoted status and that they were sacred to those who wore them. It was not acceptable for strangers to reach out and touch them; that was reserved for those emotionally close to those who wore them. But Melissa seemed to realise she had overstepped her bounds.

"I'm sorry," she said to the elf beside her.

"She gives her apologies," Legolas told the watchman, "She was unaware that what she was doing was impolite."

The watchman smiled and bowed his acceptance to Melissa who was now fully focused on the bread on her plate, her fingers worrying the remaining piece into crumbs.

"She is interesting," the watchman commented, "I have not heard the words she speaks before; I have heard that you found her lost and alone."

Legolas nodded. He was not surprised that rumours were already circulating about her. She was an oddity and in the long lives of elves such oddities did not happen often.

"Lass!"

The quietness of the dining hall was shattered as Gimli strode in. Melissa looked up and Legolas saw the first true smile of the day grace her face.

"Gimli!" she called back waving as the dwarf strode over and squeezed himself onto the bench next to Legolas.

The two watchmen nodded politely to the dwarf, but Legolas could sense their discomfort at having to share a table with a dwarf. Whilst they were accepting of Melissa and her elfling like ignorance, it seemed that Gimli would have to endure the age-old prejudice that the Elves had for Dwarfs; even though he was one of the Fellowship.

Melissa wrinkled her nose as Gimli began to shove bread into his mouth.

"Gimli, why are you still dirty?" she asked.

Legolas tried not to choke on his bread at the direct question. Gimli looked down at his hands, nails still encrusted in dirt and grim and grinned up at Melissa.

"Dirt is good," he said clearly in her language, before shoving another wedge of bread and some cheese into his mouth.

Melissa rolled her eyeballs and peered at the dwarf looking for the entire world like she wanted to drag the dwarf to the nearest bath and scrub him. Gimli, it seemed, was all too aware of her desire and chose to pick at the dirt under his nails as he ate to tease the woman. Eyes narrow, she frowned and let out a lively dwarf curse before returning to her own well-worried meal. Gimli snorted and choked at her words whilst the watchmen blanched and removed themselves from the table as quickly as manners would allow. Melissa watched them go.

"Sorry," she whispered to Legolas and Gimli, mumbling a few more words that were lost to Legolas due to the language barrier.

Legolas had buried his forehead into one hand and shook his head slowly wondering why on earth Gimli had taught her such profanities, whilst Gimli had got his coughing under control and was now peering around trying to locate something to wash his food down with.

"Oh dear, now where have I seen that expression before," came a voice from behind Legolas.

"Our father often looked like that when you were an elfling," Elrohir slapped Legolas on the shoulder in a comforting gesture and then took a seat beside the wood elf. Elladen chose to sit beside Melissa who was looking closely at both elves apparently trying to tell them apart.

"Where is the beer, lad?" Gimli directed his question to Elrohir, who raised an eyebrow.

"Beer? For breaking your fast?" he questioned, "Alas, friend dwarf, we only have cool spring water for such a meal."

Gimli humphed, looking less than impressed.

"Water is only fit to bathe in," he grumbled, "not drink".

Elladen mumbled under his breath "And you would know that how?" causing both Elrohir and Legolas to smile and Gimli to look outraged.

"There is nothing wrong with good clean dirt!" he declared, "It protects your hide!"

"Clean dirt, maybe Master Dwarf," Elrohir quibbled regarding the dwarf's rather filthy hair and beard.

Gimli chose to ignore him, instead stuffed the last piece of bread in his mouth before belching loudly.

"Anyone would think you are trying to hide something under all that grime," Elrohir continued softly, ignoring Gimli's spluttered retort to look at Melissa who had been trying to follow the conversation.

"My Lady, forgive me," Elrohir said in elvish, then swapped to her language, "Good morning Melissa. You look good."

Melissa blushed.

"You look well," she said and from her tone Legolas could tell it was a correction. Elrohir heard it too and repeated the phrase smiling as she said thank you.

Elladan turned to Gimli and Legolas and spoke in common for the benefit of the dwarf.

"I spent some time during the night looking through what is left of Rivendell's library seeking answers as to where Melissa may have come from.

Legolas noted that Elladen had gained Melissa's attention at the mention of her name.

"Regrettably, I could find no mention of any long lost mythical race with a language similar to what she speaks. Nor could I find mention of a portal, magical or natural, through which she came."

Legolas nodded, not really surprised. Much of the scrolls had been taken with Elrond when he left Middle Earth; the time of the elves was over and there had seemed little sense in leaving the vast library of scrolls and books once the lore masters had quitted this land.

"So it seems the way forward would be to go to Celeborn and consult with him once Melissa is fully healed."

Melissa once again frowned as she heard her name mentioned, her fingers tapping the tabletop in unconscious irritation.

"And if that fails?" Gimli asked.

"Then we will be unable to help her and it would be best if she was settled in a human village, amongst her own kind," Elrohir said, glancing towards Legolas.

"But first, the lady needs to learn Common and it seems in order for her to be taught we first need to learn her language," Elladen said, "and so, if your fasts are broken, I suggest that we take Melissa to what is left of the Rivendell library where I have slate and chalk ready."

Melissa felt so very uncomfortable. Not only was the pad between her legs chafing, feeling disgusting against her skin and making her think of _that_ time, but she had appeared to have made several social errors since leaving her room.

Legolas seemed uncomfortable around her and who could really blame him? Her body had failed her time and time again in his presence. She had made it worse by touching his braids, however innocently. She had noticed the flush that came to his skin, but had only realised when she had gone to touch the other elf's braid that it was apparently taboo.

She had not meant any harm, she was simply curious as to why the two new elves braided their hair exactly the same, and why Legolas did not. Obviously it had some significance but Legolas could not explain.

Bloody language barrier.

She had been relieved when Gimli had arrived. His presence was comforting and made her feel more secure, more grounded. He was refreshingly dirty compared with the pristine beautify of the elves and she had, even with her limitation with language, been able to joke with him.

Apparently using one of the phrases he had taught her was a big mistake. While Gimli had found it choke inducing funny, the two elves that had joined them did not and left very quickly. Melissa could not see any expression on Legolas' face as they went but she had the feeling that he was annoyed with her.

And then the twin elves had arrived adding to her frustration. They talked about her as if she wasn't there. She wasn't deaf, for goodness sake. She could hear them mentioning her name time and time again; at least they could do the courtesy to try and involve her.

Hearing them shift and stand, she glared at the bread in front of her and wondered just how it came to be so shredded.

"Melissa, come."

She heard Legolas beside her. It was petty, it was childish, but she felt so cross she just ignored him.

"Mellissa?" Legolas sounded puzzled.

Good.

He crouched beside her.

"Melissa, are you well?"

She frowned at the concern in his voice. He was going to ruin a perfectly good sulk. She turned her head to find it level with his. His eyes were startling blue and she was reminded of a woman she once worked with who augmented her eye colour with tinted contact lenses. Only Legolas' were real. Weren't they? She peered a little closer to see if she could detect any lenses in his eyes.

"Melissa?" Legolas rocked back slightly at her closeness.

"Hmmm?" She blinked, then pulled back frowning and glanced up at the others who were all regarding her with some curiosity.

"Oh, paying attention to me now, are you?" she grumbled, "You know its not nice when you talk about someone as if they are not there when they are, in fact, sitting right in front of you. How would you like it, Legolas? How would you like to hear your name mentioned and not know what the hell was being said. How about you Elrohir? Not nice is it."

It was the most she had spoken since she arrived and strangely she felt better for doing so. Her rant finished, she stood up with arms folded and announced, "I'm ready."

Legolas looked up at her in confusion, then rose to his feet and beckoned her to follow. She obeyed wishing that she could just go back to bed and skip the next few days. The rags she used as sanitary protection were even more uncomfortable as she walked and she couldn't help but be reminded of the discomfort of hospitals, the impersonal whiteness, the sympathetic but distant staff who could just forget at the end of a day unlike her.

She fisted her hands and tried to breath deeply pushing the memory away and instead focussed on her surroundings. Elladen was leading the group through a wide marble hall bright and white, as every other room in the building seemed to be. Along the walls were tapestries depicting dragons and warriors, bright golden woods, war scenes and a few with obviously amorous couples.

Further along was a marble statue, larger than life, of a woman with her arms outstretched in apparent benediction, her dress so finely detailed that Melissa thought for a moment that the statue was wearing real clothes. The figure's hair was long and smooth, tucked behind pointed ears, and its face was achingly beautiful. Melissa did a double take as she walked past it and turned to stare.

It was an elf woman. So, elves were not hermaphrodite after all. Melissa didn't know whether to feel relieved or slightly alarmed at the image of a being even more beautiful than those she had seen so far.

Legolas turned as he sensed her pause and came to stand beside her. He raised an eyebrow in question and Melissa found herself blushing. She pointed at the statue.

"Elf woman," she said carefully and Legolas nodded. "Very beautiful," she continued wistfully, and again Legolas looked confused. Smiling slightly, Melissa pointed to his face and said, "Face. Face beautiful," then pointed to Elrohir and Elladen repeating "Face beautiful", before pointing at the statue. "Face very beautiful."

Legolas nodded, seeming to understand her. She sighed and pointed to her own face. "Face plain," she said again, and then with a particularly wide grin, so pointed to Gimli, "Face very plain!"

Gimli snorted, whilst Elladen and Elrohir chuckled out loud before turning and continuing down the hall. Melissa reluctantly followed, her gaze going back to the statue wondering just who she was, and where the elves stashed their women.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

By the end of the week Melissa had decided that walking bare foot from the lake to Rivendell was less exhausting than being trapped in a room with three inquisitive elves all eager to learn how to speak English. Her fingers were cramped and sore from using chalk on primitive slates both to write words and to draw pictures to get the meaning of the words across. The elves all learnt incredibly fast; she had thought when Elladan had presented her with the chalk and slate that she would teach them a few basic words and perhaps introduce them to numbers. After only an hour they had memorized the alphabet and had the skills to count beyond one thousand.

From there Elladen had started pointing to objects within the room and then when those were exhausted he encouraged her to draw objects and name them. Melissa wasn't an artist by any stretch of imagination and had the elves scratching their heads looking very puzzled at times when they couldn't recognize what object she had tried to depict. Gimli had made an effort to keep up with the elves but halfway through the first day had found himself a quiet corner to sit in and 'rest his eyes'. In the days following he would visit daily but wouldn't remain with them long before getting bored and wandering off to find something more interesting than watching Melissa play charades to keep his attention.

The elves had also attempted to teach Melissa some more of their language and writing; on the first day one of the twins had placed a beautiful book in front of her and for a moment Melissa had been very excited. She loved to read and seeing that the elves had books and not just chalk and slate had boosted her spirits. She had reverently wiped her hands on her robe before very carefully opening the leather embossed cover. Inside were thick pages of white bleached parchment hand written in beautiful flowing script that made no sense to her at all. There were a few illustrations of stylized elves performing various tasks all hand painted in vivid colours. It was a work of art not just a book and Melissa had grinned at the elves as she carefully turned the pages and studied the pictures.

Unfortunately she had great difficulty in comprehending their writing. After the first day the elves stopped trying to teach her their language and instead encouraged her to continue to teach them hers. This should have been easier for her but the elves were very demanding and every evening after eating her fill in the communal dining room she would go soak in the baths before shuffling off to bed where her dreams would be full of swirling elvish script and her own crude drawings and messing writing.

As Legolas learned more English he was able to talk to her more and answer questions that had been puzzling her. The elfin woman had apparently left Rivendell sometime ago for a reason that Legolas either didn't have the words to explain or didn't wish to tell her about. He made it clear that all the elves would be leaving Rivendell at some point to rejoin their women. He had shrugged when she had asked when and told her he didn't know. Melissa had frowned at that; she wished it would be sooner rather than later as she was interested in meeting these almost mythical creatures. She held her tongue though as she didn't want to appear ungrateful to Legolas for the care he had given her.

It was a relief when her period ended but the knowledge that it would return in only a few weeks made her determined to come up with a better system for feminine hygiene. She also got very tired of wearing the robes that she had been supplied with. They seemed to her to be little more than glorified nighties. They offered no form of support for her breasts and while she was now used to not wearing undergarments that didn't mean that she wanted to go commando for the rest of her stay here. However she was uncertain how to remedy this; she didn't want to appear unappreciative of the care that the elves were all giving her and she knew it wouldn't be a simple case of nipping down to the local shops to buy what she needed.

She did ask where the clothes she had worn when she arrived at Rivendell were but Legolas informed her that they had been washed and returned to Gimli. Melissa did think that was a complete waste especially as Gimli still hadn't taken advantage of the baths but she kept quiet and continued to wear the loose robes while continuing to hunt around for any art depicting an elfin woman wearing anything other than ornate and flowing robes.

On the seventh day, lessons were suspended. Legolas informed her over breakfast that the twins had other duties that they couldn't put off any longer and Melissa was free for to do whatever she wished. Melissa had grinned at the thought of a day away from chalk and slate and both Legolas and Gimli had chuckled over her enthusiasm and had left her at the table to finish her breakfast; they apparently were also happy to have a lesson free day. Wriggling her toes in the shoes that had been provided her Melissa pondered on what to do. Glancing around the hall she saw it was mostly empty; elves had gone off to do whatever they were supposed to do. Having been secluded in a school room for a week Melissa wasn't sure what they actually did so decided that she would learn more about Rivendell.

An elf was clearing the table and Melissa nodded her thanks as he took her now empty plate. As he left the room she decided to follow and so gathered an armful of plates and cutlery and trotted after him. He glanced over his shoulder as she followed, nodded, then slowed his pace so that she could catch up. Rivendell, she knew from experience, was a maze of passages and she was aware that the elves knew of her terrible sense of direction; this particular elf obviously had no wish for her to get lost in her efforts to follow him.

They went down the hall took a sharp left turn then down a set of steps to a huge chamber that was obviously a kitchen. Along one wall was a large fire and beside it were what appeared to be ovens set in the wall. Running down the center of the chamber was the largest table Melissa had ever seen and the walls were covered in shelves that were for the most part empty of items. Those closest to the fire did have earthen jars sitting on them and each jar was engraved with elfin script. Some massive jars were on the floor lined up like soldiers against the wall and hanging from the ceiling were a number of shiny pans so polished that they reflected the flames of the fire.

Working at the table was an elf who was kneading what Melissa assumed as bread. He paused as she followed the other elf in and bowed to her before continuing his task. The elf carrying the dishes walked to a sink that Melissa hadn't spotted when she first entered the room. Quickening her pace she followed and placed her load of dishes next to those that the elf had carried. He nodded and left; Melissa assumed he was getting another load. She looked towards the sink and thought that it would be helpful if she start washing but her eagerness evaporated when she realized that there were no taps over the huge stone sink and she had no idea just where the water would be sourced from. She turned to ask the elf kneading bread for instructions but he shrugged at her words and continued to knead.

Feeling embarrassed Melissa retraced her steps passing the other elf who had a large armful of empty plates. When she returned to the dining hall she found that it was empty and the tables had all been cleared. Frowning she left the hall and decided to explore some more of Rivendell. She had been stuck inside for too long and was eager to get some fresh air. Legolas had warned her that it was dangerous to wander out of Rivendell's boundaries and she had no intention of going far. She just wanted to get a feel for the place and to try and find something anything that would give her a clue as to why she was here.

Leaving the building was a task in itself. She knew that only a small portion of Rivendell was still used but even the inhabited portion was still extensive and seemed to follow no logical design. There were many enclosed courtyards and corridors that didn't appear to lead anywhere. Balconies graced some of the rooms giving tantalizing glimpses of the outside green world but finding a door that actually led out to it took some effort. She couldn't even ask anyone as the elves were nowhere to be found.

Finally she found the way she had originally entered the building a week prior when she had arrived at Rivendell. The steps down to the courtyard had been recently swept but had been several large muddy footprints marred their gleaming whiteness. Some horses were tethered before the steps their heads low and grazing off dried grasses that had been placed before them. Melissa gave the beasts a wide berth; she had never felt comfortable around horses and her brief journey on horseback with Legolas hadn't changed her mind. Once past the horses Melissa grinned and threw her head back to squint at the sun. It was so nice to be outside at last.

The sky was a perfect blue, not a cloud in sight, and Melissa sighed in contentment at the feel of sun on her skin again after so long being cooped up indoors. She couldn't help but chuckle and spin in a circle arms flung wide at the sudden feeling of freedom before coming abruptly to a stop. She was far too close to Rivendell and was embarrassed at the thought that some perfectly groomed hottie would see her cavorting like a child. Determined to carry on her celebration of freedom away from perfect eyes, she picked a random direction and set off down what looked to be a well trodden path to see what she could discover.

Melissa didn't have to go far before she found a large pool of water fed by a waterfall and, in turn, drained by a waterfall. The path led to the edge of the pool, followed around it and continued on down the slope of the hill following the flow of water to what appeared to be another pool further down. Even in the shade of the hill, the warmth of the sun followed her as she walked, enjoying the sound of falling water and mindful that the path was damp and slippery in places due to the constant misty spray.

The second pool was larger than the first, crystal clear and inviting. The path continued to wind its way down the slope, but Melissa hesitated at continuing down. The trek back up would be more exhausting than going down and she didn't want to wander too far from the safety of Rivendell. She well remembered the attack back in the woods when she first met Legolas and Gimli; her throat still was slightly bruised from that encounter.

Stretching her arms above her head once more, she closed her eyes luxuriating in the feeling of freedom and peace she felt. Kicking off her shoes, she allowed her toes to sink into the moss covered ground. The rhythmic sound of water falling was almost hypnotic and she turned to look at the little waterfall that was feeding the pool before crouching down and touching the surface of the water with her fingertips. The water was so clear, she could see the stones at the bottom of the pool, the pond weed waving lazily in the current, even a few tiny fish who seemed to be enjoying the sun filtering through the water just as much as she was.

One of the stones lying at the bottom glittered enticingly; its colours different from those that surrounded it. Leaning closer she allowed her hand to sink further into the cool water, reaching out to try and claim the stone as her prize. The bottom of the pool was deceptively deep; with the water up past her elbow she seemed to still be no closer to getting her objective. Pouting, she reached further in before coming to an abrupt stop as the back of her robe near her neck was firmly grasped.

Thinking that Legolas or Gimli must have followed her, she turned her head to smile at them and their concern that she was going to fall into the water. A stern looking man with shoulder length brown uncombed hair and an impressive scar that puckered one of his cheeks stared at her, his large hand fisted with the material of her robe. He grinned as her own smile faded, revealing several chipped teeth before pulling her towards him. Melissa couldn't help but give a startled screech and pull away from him, throwing her weight in the direction of the pool in an attempt to be free. The thin material of her gown, not designed for such roughness, gave way at the front. The sound of material ripping was startling loud as the gown parted and gravity took care of the rest. Melissa felt herself fall forward as the gown gave way, her arms pulling free of the sleeves as she plunged face first into the pool.

Spluttering as her head broke water, she immediately covered her breasts with her arms in an attempt to hide her nakedness and took a deep breath ready to scream for help before looking to see exactly how close the strange man was. The four tiled walls of her bathroom reflecting the bright light sourced by a light bulb made her squint. The still warm bubbly water in the bath tub covered her legs, although a significant amount of water was on the floor.

Melissa blinked and then jumped as her telephone began to ring.

She was home.


	15. Chapter 15

Lost by kmf

(normal disclaimers apply)

Chapter 15

'_Melissa, are you there?'_

Melissa blinked as she Paul's voice captured by the answer phone hesitantly spoke. She slowly pulled her hands away from her chest and, fingers trembling touched the rim of the bath. It felt exactly like it looked. Cool and hard. Turning her hand over, she rapped it lightly with her knuckles. The sound echoed around the bathroom.

'_Melissa, we need to talk. Pick up the phone.'_

She noticed that her fingertips were pruned from being in the water too long. Lifting her hands to her head, she ran her fingers through damp hair as she stared at the opaque water. Had the conditioning treatment washed out of her hair while she slept?

'_I know you are there, Melissa. Stop ignoring me and pick up the phone.'_

Bending a knee, she lifted her leg peering at her shin. Her legs needed shaving. Hadn't she shaved them yesterday? Looking further down, she studied her feet. They were wrinkled.

'_If you don't pick up the phone right now, I'm coming around there to see you.'_

Melissa's head jerked sideways as she suddenly focused on what Paul was saying. She stood up quickly, grabbed a towel and clambered out of the bath trying to be careful not to side on the water slick floor. Dashing out the bathroom as she wrapped the towel around her, she muttered expletives under her breath as she ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. Picking up the phone, she tried to calm her breathing.

'What is it Paul?' she answered 'What do you want?'

Paul was silent for a moment, before his calm measured voice spoke up again.

'_So, you are there'_.

'Apparently, yes,' Melissa answered aseptically, in no mood to chat. She ran her hand through her hair again in an attempt to spike it up before it dried. 'What is it?'

For a moment, Paul said nothing. When he spoke, his voice sounded confused.

'_I was ringing to make sure you were ok. Do you want some company?_'

Melissa frowned, puzzled, trying to work out why Paul would be checking in on her. Glancing at the clock, her frown grew deeper. It was only 9.20 pm. Hadn't she only just gotten into the bath? Paul's voice pulled her from her contemplation again.

'Sorry, what?' Melissa asked before, shaking her head. 'Never mind, Paul, I've got to go. I'll call you later'.

Ignoring his protests, she hung up the phone, before checking the time stamps for the previous message he left. He had called her at 8.45. Had she really been in the bath only 45 minutes? Had she had a vivid dream? Shaking her head, she shivered. It couldn't possibly have been real. Looking down at her feet once again she wriggled her toes. They didn't feel particularly painful. She shivered again, and hugged herself realising that she was still rather wet from getting out of the bath quickly. Retracing her steps, she slowly walked up the stairs and paused at the bathroom door. She peered through carefully, staring at the bath tub. The absurdity of the situation had her suddenly giggling to herself. She was standing in her hallway scared to enter her bathroom because she was scared her bath tub was a magical portal to another world. Obviously, she had been drinking to the point where she was seeing things.

Glancing to her left, she stared at the reason why she had drunk too much; the closed door to the spare bedroom. Her gut suddenly clenched in pain, the sudden adrenaline spike she got when she acknowledged her loss, and she closed her eyes before staring back at the bath. She wouldn't think of her loss. Not now. Not without another drink to fortify herself. Not even then. Looking for her wine glass, she moved a few paces into the room but stayed well away from the bath itself. She was sure she had taken her glass in there originally. A sudden flash of memory, …_ ice cold water closing over her head as she was pushed under, the inky darkness, the despair.._, had her stumbling backwards out of the bathroom again and her body pressed against the wall of the hallway.

'..what..?' she pressed her hand against her mouth, shuddering, before fleeing into her bedroom.

Flicking the lights on, she quickly pulled the curtains and then turned to her dressing table mirror and stared at her reflection. Did she look thinner? Was her hair just a little longer? _…fetid breath as his tongue licked the side of her face, hands clenched tight, choking… _She moved closer so she could look at her neck more closely. Were those bruises? _…whispered words, warm arms embracing, softly sung songs with unknown words… _Melissa blushed and bit her lip. She was_ blushing_ like some teenager over a dream!

Slamming her hands down on the top of her dressing table, she glared at her reflection. Enough was enough! She had had a vivid dream, that was all. It was absolutely nothing to blush over. She had most likely lost a little weight because she hadn't been eating particularly well lately; she never did this time of year. The smudges on her neck could have been caused by anything! She had probably gotten them when carrying her belongings home from work or, more likely, it was toner ink that she had carelessly smudged on herself when she was sorting out a printer earlier on in the day.

Nodding in satisfaction, she turned to her wardrobe and pulled out a pair of track pants and a baggy sweatshirt. She would get dressed then go down to the local liquor store and buy some more wine to replace that she had already consumed. Familiar rituals were comforting and she would end this day as she did most, with a couple of glasses of chilled white wine before seeking the solace of sleep. Getting dressed quickly, she frowned as she found her bra a little baggy in the cup, but ignored it and finished dressing. Tossing some gel in her hair to spike it up, she gave herself a quick once over in the mirror again. She wore no makeup; it was dark outside and she wasn't going to socialise. She didn't need to hide the flaws in her complexion from cashiers who didn't know her.

Pausing by the bathroom door, she hesitated before entering. She hadn't pulled the plug out of the bath and it was still half full of soapy water. Moving quickly, she forgot that she had left large puddles of water on the tiled floor. Her bare feet skidded, and she threw her arms forward to grab the side of the bath to stop falling. She skidded too quickly, though and misjudged the distance. Her hands missed the side of the bath and instead plunged directly into the water. Grimacing at the thought of soggy sleeves, Melissa was shocked when her hands failed to find the hard porcelain bottom of the tub. Instead, her body continued to move forward, her shoulders, head and then complete body disappearing into what ought to have been eight inches of water.

Spluttering against the cold of the water, she splashed about attempting to get her knees beneath her and her face out of the water. Beneath her fingers, instead of smooth white bath, slightly rounded stones lay. The sounds of flowing water were loud in her ears, and birds were clearly singing. Strong sunlight shone down sending dazzling reflections off the surface of the water, partially blinding her after the dim light cast by the light bulb. Coughing slightly, she pushed herself up into a kneeling position and shook the hair out of her eyes. Her mouth dropped open as she realized that she was no longer in her bathroom, but was sitting in the middle of what appeared to be a rather shallow stream in the middle of the day. Wiping the water out of her eyes, she found herself looking at Legolas who stood on the bank of the stream, bow pulled with an arrow pointed in her direction, staring at her in what could only be described as surprise.

'What…?' Melissa whispered, as Legolas took a few wary steps in her direction, lowering his arrow as he did so. 'What…?' her voice stronger now, arm rising, finger pointing at him, 'What did you do? Why am I here again?'

~~~kmf~~~

Legolas crouched beside the stream he and a handful of Rivendell's elves had been following since early morning. His eyes narrowed as he inspected the mess that had been made of bank. Orcs had paused here and plants had been trampled and uprooted in their total disregard to nature. Half eaten animal carcasses had been left to rot left as well as orc spoor poisoning the clean river water. He glanced further upstream; the orcs' trail was clearly defined by broken and bruised foliage. They were close. Very close.

They had made no attempt to hide the direction in which they travelled, nor their numbers. Their behaviour was puzzling. They didn't seem to know where exactly they wanted to be. The hunting party had been following this band of orcs for several days and in all that time, the orcs seemed to have no clear direction or purpose. They travelled North one day, East the next. It had only been when they came to this small insignificant stream that they had stopped their puzzling changes of direction and followed the waters' course.

The elves beside him stood quietly, seeing what Legolas saw, and he could see they were equally as puzzled. Orc numbers had steadily been rising over these last few weeks in such a way as had not been experienced for years, not since the time he found the human woman in a distant lake and had brought her back to Rivendell. It had been a long time since he had thought of Melissa and he felt regret that the memory of her had so easily slipped from his mind. She had been a companion of his for such a short time in the long lives of elves, and after her loss the puzzle over who she was and where she had come from and gone to had stayed with him.

He had not been there when she had suddenly disappeared, but the description of what had happened by the chief of a nearby human settlement who had been at Rivendell on a trading mission closely followed Legolas' experience of Melissa's arrival. One moment she had been there, and the next she was simply not. Legolas had been involved in the negotiations that Elrohir and Elladan were conducting with the mortal men; he had wanted to see what type of men these were especially as there was the possibility that Melissa may have been entrusted into their care. They seemed fair minded folk, honest men and brave. They were warriors, able to take care of what was theirs and protect what they held precious. Legolas had been quite content to wander off among the trees contemplate all he had seen and heard during the course of the meeting, whilst the men were free to roam Rivendell's grounds to stretch limbs cramped from long hours sitting.

The startled cry of 'witchcraft!' had bought Legolas, Gimli and an assortment of other folk nearby running towards the panicked chief who held in his shaky hand a simple white robe. Legolas could still recall clearly the horror on the man's face as he pointed towards the pool of water before he tossed the robe aside as if it was made of orc spoor. Elrohir had picked the garment up, shaken it out and confirmed that it had, in fact, belonged to Melissa. The front was torn from neck to waist and Legolas had felt his blood burn at the thought of it being torn from the woman's body. His hands had gone towards his knives, but Gimli had placed a firm hand on his arm to restrain him while Elladan had questioned the mortal as to what had happened.

The man told of how he had seen a figure kneeling beside the pool dressed in simple white and had assumed that it was a lad because of the close cropped hair. He had thought to approach and ask the identity of the boy, and as he did so he had seen the figure reaching towards something in the water. Thinking the lad was overbalancing, he had grabbed the robe he was wearing to drag him back to safety. It was only then in close proximity did he realise his mistake that this was no lad, but rather a human woman. She had been startled and had struggled against his hold at which point the gown had ripped and she had tumbled forward and disappeared from sight.

'_There wasn't even a splash! It was witchcraft!'_

The mortal men had immediately left, unwilling to remain in an area where unknown magic had occurred. Elladan had ordered elves to search the area to try and discover what had happened to Melissa, but Legolas had known even then that nothing would be found. It was clear from the faint signs around the pool that two had approached but only one had left. The water had been crystal clear and there had been no sign to indicate that the woman had fallen in or been swept over the small waterfall. She had disappeared in the same manner as which she had arrived.

For days afterwards, Legolas had remained by the pool sitting waiting for her to return. Elladan and Elrohir had sent messages to the Lord of the Wood, their grandfather Celeborn, seeking counsel on what had happened, but as the days turned to months Legolas had accepted that Melissa had returned to where she had come from and would not return. Gimli had stayed beside him while he waited for a short time, but being mortal the dwarfs patience was not endless and he returned to the Glittering Caves as Lord, but only after seeking a promise from Legolas that he would soon join him. That promise had been weighing heavily on Legolas' mind of late and it was only the sudden swarming of orcs that had delayed his departure from Rivendell.

Legolas stood, turning his mind to the present problem. The company of elves he travelled with took him as their leader; Elladan had entrusted this patrol to him, whilst a separate patrol led by Elrohir searched further West.

'We are close,' he told them, 'Come! We hunt!'

Running forward, they followed the path left by the orcs. Where their prey had overturned stones and snapped fronds, the elves left no sign behind them. Their foot fall was sure and swift, unencumbered by heavy mail they would soon outrun the orcs ahead and then purge them from the land. Already Legolas, at the lead of the hunters, could smell the distinct tang of Orc on the wind. Just a little further and they would finally catch them and put an end to the blight they made on the land. Reaching behind as he ran, foot fall sure and swift, Legolas drew three arrows from the quiver strapped to his back. Around him, his companions did the same, ready to rain down their fury on the invading foes.

A sudden sound to Legolas' right had him turning sharply towards the stream. Had the orcs sensed their approach and doubled back? The warriors at his side caught the noise at the same moment as he did and fanned out, arrows drawn. A raised hand from Legolas had his elves darting behind trees to cover their movements. Elven cloaks did their job and even Legolas' keen eyes had difficulty picking up exactly where they were when they became motionless. Moving forward cautiously, Legolas moved free of the trees. Arrow drawn and ready to fire, he took no chances as he moved forward.

In the middle of the stream a bedraggled figure pushed itself to its knees and turned to face Legolas. Raising its arm, it pointed towards him.

'What did you do? Why am I here again?'

Author's Note: What? Two updates in rapid succession after _years_ with none? What the heck is going on? Well, the truth is I've been feeling serious guilt over this story for a long time. I've always promised myself that I'd never post a story that I couldn't finish. Lets face it; there is nothing more frustrating that getting into a story only to find that it never reaches a conclusion. So, after being prodded a few times recently, I cracked open my dusty old files and took another look at this story. I had to decide either to remove it entirely, or finish it. Luckily, my muse finally decided to come back and visit after being away for so long, and I'm taking advantage of her while she is with me and typing as fast as I can! That is the good news. The bad news is in reality, this story isn't anywhere complete so it may be some time before I can actually get it all down onto paper and finished. Thank you to those who have stuck with me for so many years and continued to send inspiring emails encouraging me to write again. These last few chapters have been dedicated to you!


	16. Chapter 16

Lost, by kmf

(insert standard disclaimer here!)

Chapter 16

Legolas could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times in his life he had truly been shocked speechless. Seeing Melissa standing in the middle of the stream, drenched to the skin and pointing a finger at him demanding an answer increased that count by one. She was back looking no different than she had when she left. Her body was clad in the oddest of clothes, heavy from water and her hand shook in apparent fury.

'Send me back, send me home!' she all but screeched at him.

Birds stopped singing and flew from branches in response to her yells and Legolas tensed as he saw movement behind her on the opposite side of the bank. The smell that accompanied the movement was unmistakable. Lifting his bow he took aim and fired the three arrows he had to hand in quick succession. Melissa made an odd 'epp!' sound and crouched down covering her head as the arrows took flight. Behind him came the sounds of the pulling and releasing of bow strings as the other elves entered the fray, before him came the sounds of screaming orcs as they returned fire. In the middle, Melissa had both her arms over her head crouched down into as small a target as she could achieve.

Running forward, he grabbed her arm and pulled her first towards the bank of the stream and then behind him to shield her from enemy arrows. She resisted, eyes tightly closed, until he turned to her and spoke her name sharply urging her to pay attention to him. Her eyes opened and she glared at him, before her eyes opened wider looking behind him in horror. Spinning quickly, pulling his knives from their twin sheaths on his back as he did so, he quickly sliced open the neck of the orc who had been about to impale him in the back. Black blood spurted out in an arc, splattering Legolas' tunic. He frowned in annoyance; orc blood was notoriously difficult to wash out.

Without hesitating, he spun around again, grabbed Melissa by the arm and dragged her back behind the line his fellow elves were holding. Pressing her down to the ground behind a large oak tree, he commanded with one terse remembered word of her language that she stay. He waited only for her to nod, then rejoined his fellow elves. The orcs were fighting as they had travelled: oddly. Rather than holding back and using their own archers to try and reduce the numbers of elves, they were hurtling themselves forward like ones possessed without regard to their own mortality. It was easy pickings for the elven archers, and they had already reduced the number of orcs by at least a third.

Darting forward, Legolas used his knives on those who managed to cross the stream leaving those further back for the archers to clean up. Quick reflexes and being unencumbered by chainmail made it an easy fight despite being initially outnumbered. Time and time again, the orcs pushed forward into the stream, their progress slow due to their normally rolling gait and the stony stream bed impeding them. Elven arrows glittered in the sun as they sailed overhead, burying deep into weak points in armour. The orcs screamed in rage, eyes black as their free flowing blood, but they refused to give any ground and continued to push forward making Legolas give a few paces of ground in order to prevent himself being skewered on orc blades. One orc archer who managed to cross the stream let fly an arrow that hit the tree that Melissa was crouching behind. Another used his strength to push past Legolas in the same direction, but was immediately slain by another elf who took up position to guard Melissa from any further attempts of harm.

Finally, the few remaining orcs seemed to understand that their attack had failed and, hurling obscene curses at the elves, turned and disappeared back into the woods leaving their fallen behind. The stream ran black with Orc blood and Legolas grimaced at the sight. It would be long days before the stream recovered its purity; nothing would live within its waters until every trace of orc blood washed away down in the ocean far away. Wiping his blades on the grass before sheathing then, he signalled for half the troop to follow the orcs in order to slay the few that remained. Legolas did not want a single orc left in these woods by night fall. The others turned to the grim job of slaying those injured orcs who lived on and dragging orc carcasses out of the water. They piled them on the bank and inspected each one for any clues as to why they had travelled so far into elf lands, but Legolas suspected they would find nothing before they set a fire to dispose of the corpses. Though the elven warriors concentrated on the task in hand, more than a few sent curious glances over to where Melissa was still crouching, her hands over her head still in apparent fear. They all had been at Rivendell when she last appeared years ago and all were curious as to how she came to return with so little apparent change.

Crouching before her, Legolas reviewed the foreign words in his head. It had been long since he had spoken the words she had taught him, but blessed with elven memory he still remembered them.

'Good day, Mellissa,' he said quietly hoping not to startle her.

Melissa immediately lowered her hands and stared at him. Lifting one hand, she slowly reached out and then jabbed him violently in his shoulder before frowning and immediately talking rapidly in words he did not understand. The tone, however, clearly indicated that she was not happy at all to see him. As she talked, he looked at her closely. Though years had passed, she hadn't aged. He couldn't understand how that possibly could be as she was clearly mortal; not a hint of immortal blood ran through her veins. Her hair was exactly as he last remembered it, no grey had interspersed the youthful colour to reflect her advancing years. Her clothes were strange, fashioned from a fabric he had never seen before and she wore leggings that appeared to stretch and then retract as she moved. Looking closely he spotted marks on her neck. Reaching out a hand he lifted her chin so he could get a better look. She batted his hand away, and glared at him.

'Send. Me. Home!' she demanded, eyes narrowed.

He frowned and stood, holding out a hand to help her get to her feet. She hesitated, but then acquiesced, her hand willingly gripping his. Legolas couldn't help but smile broadly at her, his heart suddenly at peace for having met a lost friend that he had thought had been lost to unforgiving time.

'Ah, _aiya meldomelin_,' he grinned, '_Guren linna cened gen_', before pulling her into a hug.

~~~kmf~~~

Melissa's head hurt. Eyes closed, she lifted her hands and massaged her temples in an effort to try to displace some of the pressure that was building in her skull. Reopening her eyes again, she glared at Elladan who had just finished embraced her with the same spine crushing hug that Legolas had only hours before hand.

Wasn't it bad enough that she was apparently having some sort of psychotic break and had was imagining that her bathtub was a magical portal from one existence to another? Why did the people about her in her delusion have to act so strangely? Legolas had scarcely let go of her hand since he released her from his hug. Instead, he had draped her in a cloak, obtained a horse from somewhere and ridden at break neck speed with her away from the pile of offensively smelly ugly dead men back to Rivendell. Arriving there, Elladan had appeared on the steps wearing the same stunned look on his face that Legolas had when she first found herself soaking wet in the middle of a stream.

Normally, receiving hugs from such seriously good looking guys wouldn't cause her undue distress, but the stares she was receiving from everyone and the attention her neck and clothes were getting were a little worrying. In addition, she seriously hoped that when Gimli appeared he would have actually finally bathed if he intended on giving her a similar embrace.

'An-uir thiad lîn 'ell. It is good to see you, Melissa,' Elladan said, his mouth pulled into a smile, 'Are you well?'

Melissa raised an eyebrow and nodded choosing to ignore the pain in her skull. Elladan reached down and captured one of her hands and turned to lead her up the steps into Rivendell, while Legolas reached down and captured her other hand. Glancing between the two tall elves, Melissa found herself being escorted inside and into the hall that she had helped clean only a few hours ago. As they entered, Melissa hesitated at the door. Sitting at a few of the tables were elves who all turned to stare with the same surprised expressions that she had seen on Legolas' and Elladan's faces. Self consciously, she pulled the cloak that Legolas had given her closer.

'Are you cold?' Legolas asked, leading her forward closer to the fire that blazed in the corner of the hall. He reached and untied the cloak, pulling it from her shoulders and touched the fabric of the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

She wasn't cold, but she was damp and the sweatshirt was thick and difficult to dry. She pulled the damp garment up over her head, in the hopes the three quarter sleeved cotton t-shirt that she wore underneath would dry faster. Smoothing her top down she looked at Legolas to tell him she wasn't cold, but hesitated when she saw him staring at her chest. Looking down, she realised that the white top she wore was screen printed with the bright purple image of a pirate skull and crossbones, complete with the legend 'Yarrr!' underneath. Worse yet, the bra she had chosen in a hurry to wear was black with red pokadots and showed clearly through the damp material of her t-shirt. Legolas seemed to find the garment of particular interest, his fine brows furrowed into a faint frown, while Elladan was slowly pronouncing the word 'yarrr'.

Blushing, Melissa grabbed the cloak out Legolas' hands and held it up over her chest. The object of his interest removed, Legolas looked back at Melissa's red face, saw she was embarrassed and began to look flustered himself. Elladan came to her rescue, prying the cloak from her clenched fingers and draping it once more around her shoulders. Another elf approached, the one who she had followed that morning when clearing dishes, with a metal goblet which he held out to her. Taking it, she found the metal to be warm to the touch and, sniffing the liquid, she thought it to be a mulled wine of some description. Just what she needed. She downed it in one enjoying the warm burn and buzz it gave her and handed the goblet back to the elf with a murmured thank you. He nodded, staring closely at her, and retreated. She hoped that he would come back with a refill.

Legolas reclaimed her hand and led her to a seat and then sat down next to her, her hand still grasped firmly in his. She stared at his long thin fingers, so delicate compared with hers, but so much stronger. His skin was pale and translucent against the tan of her skin, and his fingertips were soft as he gently rolled his thumb against her palm. For a minute or two they sat in silence, observed by many elven eyes, and only the sounds of the fire crackling in the hearth and the faint click of a second goblet of mulled wine being placed in front of her breaking the silence of the hall.

'I don't understand' she finally said, lifting her eyes to look at Legolas before turning and repeating the statement to Elladan who had sat opposite them, his arms crossed and head tilted to one side as he contemplated her.

'What happened, Melissa', Legolas asked her, 'Where did you go?'

'Home,' she replied, sighing. 'I went home. I fell into the pond when that scary man-'

Elladan held up a hand. 'Scary?' he asked, frowning.

Melissa sighed and mentally cursed the language barrier.

'Scary' she repeated, frowning, before pulling her hand out of Legolas' grasp and forming both hands into claws, pulling her face into a scowl and growling. 'Scary. Frightening.' She moved to touch her cheek and trace where the scar the man had had was.

'Did he hurt you?' Legolas demanded, recapturing her hand.

'No, no!' Melissa reassured him, shaking her head. 'He scared me. He grabbed the back of my dress and it ripped. I fell into the pool.' She turned back to Elladan 'I'm sorry I ripped the dress' she apologised, and took a sip of the wine in front of her before continuing, 'Then I was home again'.

'You fell into the pond and went home?' Elladan questioned.

Melissa nodded and turned to Legolas 'Why did you bring me back?'

Legolas looked puzzled and then turned to speak to Elladan in their own language. Melissa took the opportunity as they conversed to gulp down the rest of the wine; her headache was abating but she was still confused as to where she was and why. There was nothing logical in falling through a bathtub into a different reality. And if it was possible, why should it happen now? She had used that bathtub countless times before and never experienced so much as a weird dream in it. What she was sure of was when and if she returned, she was going to immediately drain the damn thing, get a plumber in and rip it out. She had the lack of job and her mortgage to consider; she didn't have time to be roaming around a different world. Regardless of how pretty the men in it were. Speaking of…

'Where is Gimli?' she interrupted Elladan and Legolas' talk, looking around the hall, 'Is he sleeping?'

Looks were exchanged between Legolas and Elladan. Significant looks. Melissa stiffened her back and Legolas squeezed her hand tighter.

'He is gone,' he said, 'he went to his home.'

Melissa felt suddenly hurt that Gimli had left without saying goodbye, and frowned. 'He didn't say he was leaving,' she said, 'Why didn't he mention it? Did he go first thing this morning?'

Another look was shared.

'_Hên,_Gimli went many days ago', Elladan said.

Obviously, they were having trouble with translation again. Melissa felt her headache returning and used her free hand to massage a temple; Legolas was firmly keeping hold of her second hand as if he was scared she would suddenly run off or disappear again.

'No, I ate breakfast with Gimli this morning,' Melissa stated, 'He and I argued over whether or not today was the day he should take a bath. Do you mean he went many hours ago? Straight after breakfast?'

Legolas' grip tightened on her hand and she looked up into his serious eyes.

'Melissa, Gimli left years ago'.

Authors note: I've been reluctant to use Sindarin in this story because I really don't know any phrases and I'm having to rely on internet searches for what I do use. However, given this isn't exactly a canon story (goodness knows, I've messed about with the timeline enough already!), I've decided to add a scattering here and there as I feel that the elves couldn't help but speak in their own language if emotional enough. My apologies if I've booched anything; intended translations are below:

Guren linna cened gen – my heart sings to see you

An-uir thiad lîn 'ell – ever your presence is a joy

_Hên – child_


	17. Chapter 17

Lost, by kmf

(Don't own, never have)

Warnings: Language!

Chapter 17

Legolas watched as Melissa processed the words that had been spoken. Her face was an open book; every thought that filtered through her mind was reflected in the tiny changes on her face. She was confused, puzzled, lost. He could see that she understood no more than he how she had come to return, nor that she understood the passage of time. And how could she? The elves remained as they always did; timeless and never aging. He looked much the same as he did one thousand years ago; it was unlikely that she would see any change in him over the heartbeat that was only 10 years.

'She doesn't understand,' he said to Elladan, who had sat quietly observing. 'Gimli went home. He waited a short time. You did not come. He left. Ten years have gone.' Legolas repeated the words to Melissa in her language. He leaned closer, lifting her chin and looking at her neck and spoke in his own tongue, 'And yet time has frozen for you.'

Melissa pulled away, frowning, and then gestured at Elladan. 'He is the same, you are the same,' she turned and pointed at all the elves in the room who had been silent observing, 'They are the same. I don't understand what you are saying!'

Legolas gave a small smile. 'We are always the same', he said and saw again that she didn't understand him and was, instead, concentrating on the mulled wine she had been given.

'It seems that the flow of time is not equal between her world and our own,' Elladan said, raising a goblet of wine to his own lips, 'This is … interesting. It raises many questions for which I know not the answer to. I wonder if even Celeborn has heard of such a thing.'

Interesting wasn't how Legolas would describe it. That Melissa had returned to them unchanged was a wonder; a blessing beyond measure. How often had he mourned the passing of mortal friends? Perhaps with Melissa he would never know the sorrow of that loss. Perhaps with Melissa he would not need to fear the passing of time and watch the steady and inevitable decay that came to all mortals. He smiled as she finished her second cup of wine and then yawned, pulling her free hand up to cover her mouth, her cheeks rosy with from a combination of the warmth of the hall and the drink she had consumed. His hand tightened on hers, feeling the steady beat of her life under his fingertips. Perhaps with her he could fully open his heart to friendship with a mortal without the bitter knowledge of the inevitable loss?

Melissa pulled her hand away from his, and abruptly stood up. The cloak fell away from her shoulders as she did so, revealing the odd clothing she had returned in. Legolas' keen eyes could clearly see that the fabric had not been woven in a way he had encountered before, instead it looked to have been very finely knotted together although how this had been achieved was beyond him. The plain white fabric had been painted with a pattern that seemed to indicate death, which was at odds with the brightness of the colours used. It was obvious that her people had great skills to produce a fabric that clung and stretched with the movements of the one who wore it. The way it hugged her torso was modest and yet revealing at the same time. The trousers that she wore also fitted tightly and were obviously made for a woman rather than borrowed from a man. The reason behind Melissa's confidence and comfort at wearing Gimli's trousers in the past now seemed obvious; it was a form of clothing she was used to wearing.

'I want to go home' Melissa declared as she grabbed the heavier garment she had removed and turned to stride out of the hall.

For a moment, Legolas sat still surprised at her sudden declaration and movements. Whilst he was delighted at having her return, the feeling was apparently not reciprocated. Unfamiliar feelings of guilt pricked at him; of course she wanted to return to her own life. She was not of this world and probably had family that she had been taken from and wanted to return to. But even knowing that, he felt sorrow that she did not want to linger and renew their acquaintance. Mortals normally relished the chance to mingle with elves no realising that such friendships could only end in sorrow for the elves. That was why most of elfkind kept themselves aloof from mortals. It felt strange for a mortal to be the one to refuse the friendship of the elves, but for her sake he would help her.

Frowning, he stood and looked at Elladan who had remained seated and was observing him closely. He said nothing, but nodded slightly before drinking deeply from his cup again and looking towards the flames. Legolas hurried after Melissa catching up to her as she reached the top of the steps leading out to the courtyard below. He called her name, and she slowed her quick steps and turned to look back at him. Reaching out, he took hold of her hand once more and led her down the steps towards the pool from which she last disappeared. He deliberately slowed his pace mindful that she wore no shoes, only a type of white stocking that was by now stained from walking unprotected by boots. It also gave him a chance to feel her heartbeat once again through the tips of his fingers.

This would be his last mortal friendship, he decided as they approached the pond. The time was approaching when he would leave this land and no more would he delay because of not wishing to leave a mortal before their allotted time was up. He would leave Rivendell and travel back to Gimli and dwell with him for a few more years before he would follow his heart to the sea. As if sensing his discomfort, Melissa gave his hand a tentative squeeze. Legolas turned his head to look at her as they walked and smiled. Her eyes widened in surprise and she stumbled before recovering her balance and blushing deeply. Legolas felt her pulse quicken and hid a small smirk. It seemed that Melissa wasn't quite as immune to the awe that normally took hold of humans when they saw him as he thought. He squeezed her hand in return, but her eyes remained firmly focused on the path in front of them.

Despite their leisurely walk, the pool was all too soon in front of them. They stood for a moment hand in hand at its edge, both staring at the crystal clear water. Legolas felt no power here other than the strong spirit of nature that surrounded Rivendell. Nor did he sense any power in Melissa as she stood beside him staring into the water. He had never been particularly sensitive to magics; he had been raised a warrior, not a scholar, and he whilst he had a deep affinity to nature's song he could sense nothing unusual in the water. Taking a deep breath to calm his soul, he walked forward wading into the pool, pulling Melissa with him. Once they were thigh deep he stopped and turned to her.

'_No celin a melthin idh raid gîn_', he whispered, before releasing her hand and stepping back a pace.

Melissa hesitated for a moment, and then threw herself forward to hug Legolas, resting her head against his chest and pressing her body against his. Startled, Legolas' arms wound instinctively around her and cradled her lightly. She raised her head and whispered the words 'Thank you', before pressing her lips against his for a brief moment. Legolas' eyes widened in shock at the token kiss, before feeling her push away and step back a few paces. As she left his embrace his hands remained outreached as if he was stretching to catch hold of her. She smiled gently at him and as she fell backwards into the water, sinking deep into the depths disappearing from his world once more, he closed his eyes unwilling to see her go. The pain in his heart was sharp, and he breathed deeply in the evening air trying to calm himself at this new unwanted parting.

Cold water splashing across his face startled him and he opened his eyes to see Melissa floundering in the water, one hand holding her nose while she furiously blinked water out of her eyes.

'Damnit! I got water up my nose!' she exclaimed, before focusing on Legolas. 'Well, _shit_. That didn't work!'

* * *

It had been a day since Melissa had arrived back in Rivendell and she was beginning to think that her hand was permanently attached to Legolas. Everywhere she went he accompanied her, shadowing her footsteps and staying close as if he was scared she would suddenly disappear on him. To be honest, she couldn't really blame him. After the first failed attempt to return to her bathtub, she had attempted many more returns. They had remained at the pool for several hours trying all types of ways to trigger the way home again. Gracefully wading hadn't worked, nor had jumping, diving, floating, or getting Legolas to (reluctantly) push her. He drew the line with dunking.

They had returned to the hall with her teeth chattering and Legolas looking just as bedraggled as her and probably, given the few terse words he had spat at Elladan, just as grumpy. She had downed a few more goblets of mulled wine and sullenly refused to eat anything that had been offered to her while drying out by the fire. She had fallen asleep there and woken up some hours later to find herself leaning on Legolas' shoulder, her mouth open and throat dry probably from too much snoring. Her clothes nice and dry, she had gotten up and walked briskly to the nearest pool of water before leaping in again. Legolas, who had been following her, had been startled, to say the least, and had dragged her out back to the hall giving her reproachful glances every time she peeked at him.

Elladan had shaken his head at her and probably given her a stern talking to, but she didn't understand what he said. Legolas had given her the silent treatment until she had snuck out again and leapt into a third pool. At that point, he became very verbal indeed, especially as she hadn't taken into account the swirling current in that one and had nearly been swept over the waterfall that flowed out of it. She hadn't particularly cared, though. She didn't belong here, she needed to get home, empty her bathwater and find a job so she could continue to be a home owner.

Melissa's fourth attempt involved her splashing around in a stream that was so shallow in barely covered her feet. Her theory had been that her bathwater wasn't terribly deep, so perhaps the depth of water had nothing to do with it. Legolas had sat on a boulder, his arms crossed, staring at her as she waded in the jumped up and down in an attempt to trigger the way home. All she had achieved that time were wet socks and the satisfaction of being able to accidentally splash Legolas. He didn't berate her, but instead wore a pained long suffering look which she was beginning to hate. She knew she was being childish, but she couldn't help herself.

When he had led her back to the pool for her first attempt at returning home, she had been grateful and at the same time sad that she would not see Legolas again. There was no denying that he was a hottie, and the long lingering stares he had been giving her raised her blood pressure and caused her imagination to go overboard. He had been nothing but a gentleman though, only holding her hand and smiling at her; there was absolutely no way that someone so beautiful, who came from a race of beings equally as gorgeous, would be attracted to her. When they had stood together in the pool, she had taken one final opportunity to kiss him. Her lips had touched his for only the briefest of moments, but the electricity that had spun through her body when she did so had made her brain melt. Her knees had been so weak, all it had taken for her to fall back into the watery depths had been to just let go of him. The shockingly painful sensation of water shooting up her nose had brought her quickly back to reality and since then she had tried to keep her emotions firmly under control. No more drooling over the elves had been the mantra that she had muttered under her breath time and time again.

For attempt five the plan was to ditch Legolas. She had managed to get home the last time when Legolas wasn't about so she thought, perhaps, he was a magnet keeping her in this reality. Certainly, he was a common factor each time she travelled to this strange place. Actually escaping from him was more difficult than she first thought. He was with her from the moment she woke up to the moment she slept at night, his hand constantly seeking hers. He stayed near whenever she went to the bathroom, to the point where she was unable to relax enough to do her business. Having a handsome guy hovering outside a bathroom door close enough to hear every disgusting noise her body produced would make even the most confident of people constipated as far as she was concerned. He was tireless; seemingly never needing to rest, to have alone time or even needing to visit the bathroom himself. That in itself confirmed how alien he was to her; she had never before encountered a single male who hadn't needed to spend at least twenty minutes daily with a newspaper secluded in a bathroom.

When she had asked if she could be alone for a while to try and make another attempt at returning home, Legolas had flatly refused with an expression that seemed to indicate his frustration with her. She didn't understand why he should be upset when he had been so supportive in the first attempt, nor could he express the reasons why to her in a language she could understand. It seemed Melissa had to resort to being sneaky for attempt five. Unfortunately, Legolas had eyes in the back of his head and every time she attempted to distance herself a little from him, he would turn his pretty eyes to her and stare in such a way as to freeze her in her tracks.

The solution, when it came to her, was so mind-blowing obvious that she almost slapped herself for not thinking it before. The baths at Rivendell were basically just segregated indoor pools of free flowing hot water. She could be completely alone for attempt five and she doubted that even Legolas could object.

'I want a bath!' she declared, turning to grin at Legolas in triumph daring him to protest.

He stared back before giving a long suffering sigh. Nodding, he took her hand again and led her out of the door in the direction of the baths. Legolas walked quickly, and Melissa found herself half a pace behind him being pulled, her arm outstretched towards him. She didn't mind; it gave her a rather nice view of his back and allowed her to avoid all the hot smoldering glares she had been getting. She tilted her head sideways and watched how his hair flowed with his movements, the bright gold glinting even in doors. Melissa had never been a fan of long hair, especially on men, but there was no denying that there was nothing feminine at all about his hairstyle. It was positively sexy the way it flowed down his back towards the base of his spine leading to a very tasty pair of buttocks. Leoglas halted, and Melissa narrowly avoided running into said buttocks and raised her eyes to look at his face.

Legolas stared at her for a moment before pointing at the door at which they arrived.

'Well _huh_', Melissa thought, 'I don't remember the baths being that close…'

She nodded her understanding then froze as Legolas, pulling her closer, bent his head near to hers so that his silky blond hair fell forward and tickled her face. Melissa felt her heart skip a beat and her face grew pink as he dipped even closer. …_Is he going to kiss m_e?.. Her eyes focused on his very perfect lips. They parted slightly. Her heartbeat stopped skipping beats and instead decided to go into overdrive. …_Oh my god, he is going to kiss me_!…

'Be good', Legolas said firmly, let go of her hand and turned away to stand like a sentinel at the door, his back towards her.

Melissa's stood perfectly still at his abrupt retreat, her brain taking a few seconds to reboot and process the fact that he hadn't just tried to kiss her. She raised her now sweaty hands to touch her cheeks which were burning with embarrassment. It seemed that her ability to read the body language of elves was worse, if possible, than her ability to understand their spoken language. Legolas turned his head to glance at her over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised in confusion at her motionless state. Spinning around, she fled into the room away from his line of sight and pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart was beating as fast as if she had just gone for a run. Lifting her hands, she fanned her face trying to rid herself of the blush she knew had flooded her cheeks with colour.

What the hell was _that_? Legolas was very easy on the eyes, but he was totally off limits! She didn't belong here and needed to concentrate on getting home rather than start crushing on the local hotties. Groaning, she covered her face with her hands. It was, of course, all her own fault. She should never have kissed him in the first place! If she had known that such an innocent kiss would spark an infatuation with the elf, she would have shook his hand farewell or, better yet, waved. Pulling back her hands she gave her cheeks two firm slaps before shaking her head. Time to pull herself together! Time to get home!

She moved with purpose through the cleansing area and looked at the steaming waters of the bath. Hesitating, she looked down at her socks which were beyond filthy, the soles stained black from wandering around outside with no protective footwear. She couldn't, in good conscious, pollute the clean waters of the bath with those. The hems on her sweatpants were not much better. Groaning, she quickly shucked socks and pants off, before pulling off her sweat top too. She drew the line at removing the rest of her clothes, though, and without hesitating a moment longer she closed her eyes, crossed her fingers and jumped in.

The heat of the water was pleasantly cocooning as it closed over her head and she found herself smiling in bliss; after so many dips in cold water she was long overdue a good hot soak. Fingers still crossed, she allowed herself to relax and float up to the surface. That the water was still hot was not a good sign. Sighing, she opened her eyes and confirmed that attempt five had been as unsuccessful as the previous attempts. Frustrated beyond believe she took a deep breath, sank under the water again and opened her mouth to scream as loud as she could. Oxygen gone, she pushed herself back up and slapped the surface of the water a few times for good measure before swimming back to the side of the pool.

It was time to work on attempt six!

* * *

No celin a melthin idh raid gîn - May your ways be green and golden

Author Note: So, probably no more chapters for a little time as I'm away over Xmas and the New Year. I wish you all the very best for the festive season and hope you have a safe New Year!


	18. Chapter 18

Lost, by kmf

Chapter 18

_(I've recently checked, and I still don't own it…)_

Legolas was having a bad week. He had lost count of the number of times Melissa had randomly thrown herself in pools of water and he was sure that his boots had shrunk due to their frequent immersion when he went to drag her out. The first few attempts had been worrying; he didn't want her to suddenly disappear again and he had been reluctant to let her go anywhere that would cause this to happen. With this in mind he had kept a close watch on her, following her about Rivendell and pulling her out of water the second he was sure that the portal back to her lands hadn't reappeared. He had even secretly spied upon her when first she bathed, something he wasn't proud of but felt obligated to do. He had almost hauled her out of the water then too when she had sunk under the surface and screamed, but had held back and allowed her to have her time of grief at her inability to return to her home.

Sorrow was one thing, but recklessness was another and he had reached the point where he was no longer going to allow her to risk her life invoking a portal that only randomly appeared and never, it seemed, at a convenient moment. He had just finished telling her this in the few words of her language that he knew and the glare she was giving him was probably the most fierce he had ever received from a mortal.

'I want to go home!' she stated, arms folded over the slightly grubby clothing she had arrived in which she refused to exchange for more suitable elf robes.

Legolas was sure that she felt much more comfortable in her native garb, but the clothing was going to cause offense to sensitive noses if she didn't allow them to have a proper clean soon. He resisted the temptation to tell her that and instead shook his head. She immediately spun around and stalked off. Clenching his fists, Legolas attempted to calm himself and regain the serenity that his kind were so fabled for. It seemed the longer he was in Melissa's presence, the harder it was to do. Never had he met a human before that was able to vex him to the point that he wanted to raise his voice.

Elrohir approached him, a knowing smirk on his lips. Elrohir had returned from removing the last of the wandering orcs from the lands surrounding Rivendell only a few days before and, once he got over his surprise at seeing Melissa, Legolas had demanded that he help keep an eye on her until she accepted that jumping into any body of water that caught her eye wasn't going to return her home. Legolas had banked on Elrohir having a soft spot for the mortal woman and had been unsettled when he had immediately refused to help. Instead, Elrohir had secreted himself away with Elladan and had been attempting to work out the puzzle that was Melissa and the reason for her existence in their lands.

Unclenching his fists, Legolas acknowledged Elrohir with a nod. Elrohir put his arm around Legolas' shoulder in a brotherly fashion and attempted to replace the smirk with a sympathetic smile but failed miserably. Legolas tried not to grind his teeth.

'That woman…' he started, glancing in the direction that Melissa had stalked. She had disappeared from sight and Legolas' eyes narrowed.

'Before you run after the Lady, I have news', Elrohir said, a serious tone colouring his voice.

'Oh?' Legolas asked while trying to calculate which direction Melissa had gone once she exited the room.

Elrohir folded his arms and shook his head, 'Unfortunately, none that will help the Lady return to whence she came,' he said, 'but Elladan and I have received a missive from Celeborn about the problem'.

Legolas' attention immediately switched to Elrohir, who smiled at the reaction and then lowered his voice to a level that would not be overheard by others nearby.

'It seems that the number of orcs has risen each time Melissa has appeared', he continued, '_Aduadar_ had noted the sudden rise and had been anticipating an event; he sent us a message warning of it but the Lady arrived before the message did'.

Legolas frowned. This news was…worrying. Were the increased levels of orc activity linked to Melissa? If so did that mean that the way she traveled from one world to another was evil; surely orcs would only be attracted to things dark and twisted like themselves. Melissa seemed to slip easily into depression and Elrohir had hinted when first he had met her that there was something traumatic in her past but had not seemed to think that it was a sign of malevolence. Mortals, however, seemed to be easily drawn to evil; he had seen it many times over the years he had had dealings with mankind. He sincerely hoped that the dark moods that Melissa displayed were not a hint of something direr and the increased orc numbers was just an unfortunate happenstance.

'I confess I am filled with unease at this news,' Legolas replied, 'I had hoped that had been coincidence and nothing more. She is not… she cannot be a threat to this land.'

'I think not,' Elrohir answered, 'but in truth there is too much that we do not know about the Lady and why she is here. The mystery was deep when last she was with us, it deepened more with her returning ageless as if immortal.'

Legolas made to respond, but Elrohir held up his hand.

'Peace, my friend. I know you hold Melissa in high regard and will hear no word against her. In truth, I feel the same. I have seen her dark dreams but they had the feel of tragedy and did not feel twisted. However, Elladan and I are both of the opinion that we can do no more here for Melissa. We do not have the experience that Celeborn has; we feel it would be best for her to travel to see him to see what light he can shed on the Lady and her origins', Elrohir eyes turned a little distant, 'Aduadar will soon pass from this age, if he is not consulted now there may not be the opportunity again'.

Legolas stared at Elrohir. 'That sounds remarkably like a prophesy, my friend,' he said, watching Elrohir closely as his eyes became more focused.

'Ah, it isn't difficult to see that Celeborn's heart no longer dwells in Middle-Earth and yearns to be once more with Galadriel,' Elrohir smiled and nodded towards the door, 'But if I was able to utter prophesies I would imagine a safer one would be that the Lady Melissa was soon to get her toes wet.'

Legolas froze for a second, then biting back a curse sped from the room as if Sauron himself was on his heels. Elrohir tried very hard not to laugh out loud at Legolas' reaction, but couldn't stop a chuckle escaping his lips as he turned to organise the supplies needed for Legolas and Melissa's pending journey.

* * *

Melissa stood waist deep in the water, her arms stretched out to her sides, fingertips resting on the surface. Her eyes closed and she wished _wished so hard_ to return back to her nice small bathroom. The coldness of the mountain fed pool made her legs ache and she hadn't quite mustered up the will power to dunk her head under the surface. It was getting more and more difficult for her to even make the attempts to return home despite her declarations and tantrums in front of Legolas. She was well aware that she had been acting like a child in front of him, making stupid demands that she knew perfectly well Legolas couldn't fulfil. But to give up making the attempts, to quietly stay put and not make the effort felt like failure to her and that made her feel angry. Her anger was so intense that she couldn't swallow it up and hide it away inside, instead it kept seeping out, spilling over and staining the pure clear calmness of Rivendell.

She clenched her fists and smashed then into the surface of the pool sending splashes of cold water spraying up and around her. This wasn't the time to be thinking about that. She needed to get home and she needed to figure out what the trigger was that sent her from this strange place back to normality. She closed her eyes concentrating again, trying to remember anything that she had said or done which could have somehow opened the door between worlds. The first time she had been transported naked, and she had returned to her own world naked again. The second, she had been wearing clothes and so she had continued to wear the same clothes she had arrived in, in case she had to be dressed the same each time. Of course, it wasn't that simple otherwise she would have been back home and draining her bathtub a week ago.

Legolas had been there both times she had arrived, but hadn't been about last time she left and because the elf that seemed super-glued to her side she wasn't sure whether that was a trigger to the portal opening or not. The more she attempted to get some distance from him, the more he was there. Throwing her overflowing anger at him didn't even bother him. It seemed every time she turned, he was there watching her with those clear blue eyes with such _concern_ and she hated it. Concern was dangerously close to pity and she had had enough pity to last her a life time after-

Growling in frustration, swallowing down those dangerous emotions and memories, she took a deep breath and was about to dunk herself under despite the cold when she felt her elbow grasped.

'Melissa,' Legolas growled at her.

Just how he had managed to approach her, even enter the pool, without making a sound was beyond her. For a moment she stared up at him dumbfounded by his unworldly beauty, his pale flawless skin, the way the water was wicking up his trousers turning the fabric a few shades darker than normal. His expression changed as he stared back at her and turned from sternness back to something softer and he opened his mouth to speak again and Melissa knew _just knew_ it would be words of sympathy and comfort. The anger rose again from deep within her and she pulled violently back from him trying to break his hold.

'Let go!' she demanded.

Legolas' eyes narrowed and his grip tightened on her arm preventing her from moving away. He was freakishly strong and as much as she pulled against him, even to the point of pivoting her entire weight against his grip, he wouldn't let go. He just stood watching her, eyes narrow and face blank and cold.

'No more,' he said calmly, 'Stop this Melissa'.

'Let go!' she repeated, raising her free hand and slapping it against his repeatedly.

He ignored her actions, tightened his grip yet further until her elbow began to hurt and then turned and all but dragged her out of the pond. Once on the bank he placed himself between her and the water before letting go.

'Melissa, no more,' he repeated himself, crossing his arms, 'Stop now. It is bad.'

Rubbing her elbow which was tingling from where he had held so tightly, Melissa glared back at Legolas.

'How dare you!' she all bit shouted back at him, 'If it was you stuck in a place that you didn't belong wouldn't you be trying to get back anyway you could? Would you give up at the first or second attempt just because it didn't work? I don't belong here! This isn't my world!' she gestured around her, 'All this! All this pretty landscape and unpolluted water and perfect gorgeous elves! This isn't where I belong! I shouldn't be here. I need to go home.'

She was so cross, her eyes filled up in her frustration and big wet tears overflowed and dripped down her cheeks. Melissa saw through the haze of tears that Legolas' face had softened again at what he probably perceived as tears of sadness. Clenching her fists, she surged forward and shoved him as hard as she could hoping to send his wretched pitying gaze to the bottom of the cold pond. He didn't move an inch. She, however, bounced back and landed painfully on her behind and as she did so she heard the sound fabric of her pants give way under the abuse they were receiving. Staring at Legolas, who still stood as still as a statue regarding her, she carefully got up and smoothed the fabric over her posterior, only to have her fingers snag in a tear. She froze. If her clothes weren't in the same condition as when she arrived, would she still be able to return home?

'Melissa?' Legolas inched forward towards her, one arm extended, 'are you well?'

Was she _well_? She may have just stuffed up her only chance of getting back home, and was she well? She had ripped her only pair of decent pants in this silly medieval weird world and she might now have to spend the rest of her life prancing around in nightgowns, and all he could ask was 'was she well?' No. She was pretty sure the answer to that was no, she wasn't feeling very well at all, thank you very much! She spun around, bent over and pointed one finger at the tear.

'Does this look well to you?' she demanded, peering back over her shoulder.

For a moment she enjoyed the sweet satisfaction of watching the pity drain out of Legolas' face as he looked exactly where she was pointing, replaced by a flushed look of embarrassment. He blinked and opened his mouth to apparently say something, then closed it again when he found nothing to say. His eyes remained firmly trained in on her posterior. A few seconds later, the rage that had threatened to overwhelm Melissa suddenly dissipated replaced with the horrible thought that perhaps the tear was slightly bigger than she had thought and she may be exposing significantly more buttock to Legolas than she had intended to. Legolas continued to stare at her behind.

She straightened and spun around so fast she nearly lost her footing, and plastered both her hands over her behind trying to get an idea just how large the torn area was. She could clearly feel bare skin; it was no wonder that Legolas was still staring at her with a bright pink face. She knew their culture was a modest one and here she was flashing her bum at him. She stared down at her feet in embarrassment.

'I'm…I'm sorry,' she managed to get out between clenched teeth.

Legolas, seeming to get over his shock, laid a hand on her shoulder.

'Melissa, are you hurt?' he asked quietly.

The anger began to rise in her again; again with the stupid questions! But in reality it wasn't Legolas' fault. He was limited to the words that she had managed to teach him of her language and she had made no real effort to learn his. Taking a deep breath she pushed the rage down and looked up at him smiling brightly.

'I'm fine, Legolas. Sorry', she repeated, and glanced over her shoulder behind her, 'I ripped my pants.'

Legolas' colour was returning to normal, she was glad to see, and he gave her a smile.

'Yes!' he nodded, tilting his head to look behind her too. 'Long rip.'

Startled, she backed up a couple of paces, hands still firmly covering the damage. Legolas smile widened as he removed his cloak and held it up. With just two long steps he was behind her draping the cloak around her shoulders, arms wrapping around her shoulders in order to fasten it. His hair fell against her cheek tickling it as his fingers worked the clasp and she could feel his breath on her neck. She bit her lip suddenly hyper aware of his close proximity and that it was causing her heart to speed up in an alarmingly adolescent fashion. The clasp fastened, Melissa closed her eyes and inhaled deeply willing her body to calm down. She needed to get a grip on herself. Yes, Legolas was seriously attractive and yes, she was seriously curious as to whether elves actually indulged in such things as kissing, but now was not the time. Not when her emotions were pinging from anger to despair and then, it seemed, it lust. Legolas was a friend. A friend who was stupidly hot, who seemed to have no idea what 'personal space' was, and who was currently pressing his body up against hers in something that felt dangerously close to an embrace. If she leaned back just a little, and tilted her head just a fraction to the right she would-

'Done,' he whispered in her ear, lips grazing her ear lobe, before squeezing her shoulder and moving away.

Melissa opened her eyes and tried not to hyperventilate. It seemed that Legolas was either unaware of the havoc he was causing her emotions or it was a situation so taboo that it was ridiculous to even consider it. She hadn't seen any references to human females in Rivendell, she hadn't see any of the male elves with anything remotely female. Her knowledge of the culture of elves was seriously lacking; she didn't even know whether kissing was acceptable in this world. Melissa blushed remembering the farewell kiss she had given Legolas before her first attempt to return home. He had looked shocked at the time she had done it; had that been the first time anyone had kissed him (however innocently)? She hadn't the words to ask him and once again she began to feel frustration and irritation at her inability to communicate properly.

Frowning, she looked up at Legolas who was regarding her with a small smile on his face. He had his hand outstretched towards her, palm open, patiently waiting for her to take his hand. Melissa suddenly understood that he was her anchor in this strange world and she reached out for him. The frustration and irritation she had been feeling slipped away as soon as she gripped his hand, replaced with sudden determination. She would no longer try to get home but would wait patiently for it to happen on its own. Instead of wasting time, she would learn the language of this world so that she would no longer be isolated. And then once she could communicate with others and not constantly rely on Legolas, then she could get rid of this awful one-sided school girl crush that she had for him. Relieved that she finally had a logical explanation for her see-sawing emotions, she grinned up into Legolas' blue eyes.

'Legolas, let's go back.'

* * *

Authors Note: Eww. OCC Legolas. Sorry about that. And my apologies for the delay in posting this - January was a busy month and I got out of the habit of writing whilst I was away. Rest assured, I am still writing it but updates may be slow (sorry!)

Aduadar - Grandfather


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